
You’re writing an outline for a new story. Quite naturally, you want to pack it full of drama. How do you do this?
The answer’s simple. You find a way to add the word BUT to every single sentence you write.
Here’s an example:
Jack sets off across the rope bridge BUT torrential rain has made the planks slippery. He manages to keep his balance BUT he drops his map in the river. He finally makes it to the other side BUT a landslide has taken out the path. He scrambles down the rocky slope BUT there are crocodiles snapping on the river bank …
Adding BUT turns everything you write into a high wire act. Each time your characters think everything’s going to be okay, yikes, they discover it isn’t. The word BUT brings jeopardy. The word BUT lights fires. The word BUT turns the screw as tight as it will go, transforming the simplest of intentions into the most daunting of challenges.
If you’re afraid of overdoing it, don’t worry: you can’t. This is an outline, right? An outline is just a set of starting blocks designed to be kicked aside the instant you start the race. Yet it still has a duty to perform. It needs to be solid. It needs to work hard.
Above all, it needs to be packed full of BUT.
If you’ve got as many questions as I have about the craft of creative writing, you’ll know how important it is to try out new things. The more you learn, the more you feel in need of lessons. Every day, as they say, is a school day. That’s what my Writer’s Alphabet is all about. It’s not a dictionary of answers, more a lexicon of suggestions. Some of the ideas are my own, some are based on nuggets of wisdom I’ve picked up along the way, borrowed from people far smarter than myself. It’s not a list of rules (rules are made to be broken, right?). But it might give you a nudge in the right direction, just when you need it.