Index Cards
How to Reverse Outline Your Novel (and More)
It’s that time of year again—my email inbox is full of notes from friends and acquaintances (mostly the college professors and school teachers) who’ve finished a draft of their novel over the summer break. Maybe you or someone you know is getting close to a new draft of a novel too. Maybe you or someone you know feels a little lost in the mix of what to do next for/to your novel. I’ve been there. I’m always there.
Recently I taught an intensive novel-writing/novel-editing workshop, in person, NYC (there will be another workshop in spring 2025 and fall 2025, apply here). Part of what was taught in this workshop was what I am going to share in this post—methods for reverse outlining, and ‘how to developmentally edit yourself’ and more.
Today I’m going to jot down some scattered thoughts on the use of index cards to map out what you have already written: meaning you completed a first draft of the project and wonder where to go next—perhaps you aren’t sure of the ending, or wonder which parts need major rework, but you do feel like you’ve gotten down something you’re excited to commit to working through a few more drafts of, to hone, to finish.
Please take all of this information I’ll share here as loose suggestion, rather than The Way. There is no formula I know of for writing a successful novel (whatever successful means)—the only thing that works is TIME and sitting down and doing it again, again, again. That said, I hope some of the things I list off here will be a way for some artists to look at what they’ve made, self-examine, and make a kind of map in order to go a bit farther into the work they feel (gut) required for a deeper next draft.
Another note: I have a terrible memory; any of my friends can attest to that. By the time I have ‘finished’ a big draft of my novel (over the course of many months/years) I believe I’ve got a decent idea of what is in my manuscript, but I’m often mistaken.
So what helps me? What’s this fool to do?
Read Your Book
Read the thing from top to bottom. Familiarize yourself with what exactly is in there, in your current draft. Life happened while you were making your art and now we have the task of seeing what art happened in-between life. Read it.
Bullet Point Chapters / Scenes
And as you read, bullet point out the novel on index cards.
Some novels are written ‘thriller-style’ with short chapters; other novels have long sprawling chapters that sweep along for fifty, sixty, forever-pages; other novels are experimental, perhaps with no chapters whatsoever—leaping through time, place, untethered to conventional structures. Whatever your situation, break your novel/manuscript up into chunks that seem logical to you, whether it be by chapters, or by scenes, or short sections (every six pages perhaps). Most novels these days seem to have short chapters; so the majority of artists will wind up with something like what I have. The novel I just turned in the other day (my follow up to Teenager) has 66 chapters across 350 pages. As a result, my current stack of index cards for that novel is at 67: Title card, and then all the chapters one by one, one on a card, in sequential order.
Imagining New Chapters/Scenes
Almost every time I have done this exercise—reading and making cards for what I have created, there has comes a feeling, ‘Oh, it feels like there’s something missing between chapter E and F’ so I’ll put a blank card between those chapters and I’ll do something to indicate to myself that I have a new chapter/scene/small section to write’.
(See Photo Above)
Because I am numbering my cards sequentially, it’s simple to keep track no matter how many new cards I make during this ‘reading and mapping period’. If I am lucky, as I am doing this reverse outlining work, I might come up with quite a few new things to write. But this is my goal, to add to a manuscript as I go, and never subtract until much later. I believe in building on what I have written in my early drafts, developing and enhancing as I go, to make something ‘fully expressed’. Some writers operate in a totally different way. I write with a vague idea and chase that idea day by day, not looking too far ahead, not planning what comes next. It’s only later, in the rearview mirror of my work, do I find my most interesting paths forward.
Here are the New Scenes to Write The Punch List
So if you’re like me, maybe you got six new chapters/scenes/small sections to write. On each card I write ‘the gist’. I’ve got that green mark up in the corner of the new index card, something simple like a green circle with a highlighter, to keep me on track of what my work going forward will entail. It’s now easy for me to keep track of the casualty of the old scenes in congruence with the demands of the new scene. My work on my next draft (Second? Third? Tenth?) then becomes writing down these new things I have imagined.Analog Verses Ethereal
The other nice thing about mapping your project out on index cards is that you can spread them out on a large table and look at what is happening globally. This can be done in some computer programs of course, but I think something great happens when we can get away from our cell phones, laptops, and other electronic devices. A pack of index cards costs 99¢ at most pharmacies.
In this Economy?
These days, even when I am writing my novel on my cellphone or on this laptop, I do my best to limit as many distractions as possible. If I go to work with an index card in my pocket, with a few bullet points on it—assigning myself this task—I can easily write four hundred words on my coffee break and then another four hundred words on my lunch break. I can then go home and finish the scene (another four/five hundred words?) and feel satisfied I have a sketch, a first draft of a new scene in a novel that is too hard for me to sometimes conceive of all at once in my head (ethereally) but which I can spread out on the table and dream about and plan further about, as I slowly tick along, removing small tasks off my ‘punch list’.
Knowing I’ll do many drafts of this novel before I am done, and knowing I will have many many chances to ‘fix it later’ helps me endlessly.45 Days / Six Weeks
When I’m working on a ‘big project’ I try to stay on the horse of it for something like six weeks. I say no to as many other life obligations as I can and I go to my day job, and I do my day job, but I think about and dream about my novel, and I try to work on my novel every day, adding to it, working through my punch list of new scenes. But other than the new scenes, whenever I get excited about ‘Oh what if this other thing happened in Chapter 8 instead’ I make the day’s work be doing just that. Altering. Developing material based on intuition and excitement. I let the story pull me along wherever seems most exciting, emotionally or because of some action that will inevitably lead to a deepening of emotion. But I like the 45 day/six week thing, because I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can play around for that time, and have a stopping point. When that stopping point comes up, it’s time for me to take care of all those life obligations I partially neglected in service of the ‘big project’ and it’s time to chase after the thrill of smaller projects … it’s time to post things like this blog post.Time
So … Let time pass. How much? A month? Another six weeks? Sure. More? Stick your novel in a drawer and study and learn other things; watch great films, go to the museum, read great works of literature and read trash and smut and comic books and anything and everything. During this time, maybe a stray idea for my novel pops up—easy enough, I just pull out the stack of index cards and write the new idea on the back of the card in a different color ink, perhaps I give myself a mark there too up in the corner so I can keep track of this new idea when it is time to revisit my ‘big project’. But mostly I’m letting myself get away from the work for a while, let it weather, let it become a tad distant. Maybe I’m even trying to forget exactly what is in there so I can …Revisit / Repeat
Inevitably, I’ll repeat the whole process again. Read, make new cards, write them when I can, work down this NEWEST punch list (how many times is this guy going to have me add gold to my book?). This process might take me a year or more before I begin to feel I’ve reached something more than I ever thought I could say about my subject. When I begin to feel more confident about the material I’ve put into the book, I then switch gears to …Line Editing
45 Days / Six Weeks of line editing. Consolidating whatever I feel needs it, compressing nearly everything. And during my line editing, I’m also adding to passages that feel undercooked. It’s all by feel. I’m not a professional. My novels are not the work of a professional. There’s a tinkering happening in all phases. But my goal here, in this draft, perhaps my forth or fifth pass from top to bottom building the novel, is to make the novel readable to others. To make what I am trying to say a bit clearer to others. The index cards come in handy here because as I am doing this work, it’s simple to just put a mark up in the corner of the card corresponding to the part I have ‘line edited/made readable to others’
Cards Marked with Arbitrary Blue Mark indicating ‘Line Edited/Developed’ Copy-Editing
Inevitably when I think it’s time to send it to someone else to read, it is actually time to do ONE MORE PASS through the novel. I go back to the beginning and I correct any errors in the text I can find. As I do this I put a different color mark up in the corner of the card. The color-coded markings (consistent throughout) helps because sometimes as you do your work: developmental editing (writing new scenes/changing existing scenes to match goals of project), or line editing, or copy editing/fact-checking, you might find ‘Oh, this thing in chapter 17 gets me excited for something that will occur in chapter 30’. By keeping track of what you are doing, phase by phase, you can jump from ‘Card 17’ to ‘Card 30’ and be confident that after that work (smoothing, making even more congruent) is done, you’ll not have lost your place, and in the end you have not failed to give sections of the novel you thought had been given the proper attention, the actual proper attention needed.
Cards Marked Arbitrarily with Red to Indicate Copyedited/Fact-Checked, etc The Inevitable
After more time passes, after someone reads your novel and gives you feedback, the stack of cards you have been working on might be useful still for further work. Or it may be time to make a fresh set of cards if you liked what they helped you do to your manuscript so far.
Who knows, really? That’s the inevitable.
Try it. See what happens. Pretend it’s some adventure you’re on. Pretend hard enough and then it actually does become an adventure you’re on.
In any case, correction tape is a great friend to all adventurers. It keeps it all neat. I’ve used the correction tape while working on my typewriter, while writing by hand by pen in a notebook, and even in my hand editing of my own printed out manuscripts. You don’t need em, but they keep things clean, and keeping things clean helps me stay in the flow of whatever I’m working on, and that’s the goal. To stay in the flow: its own reward.
All Right. Thanks so much for reading. I appreciate your time. If you’re working on a novel, I hope some of this information is helpful/inspiring. If you’re not working on a novel but know someone who is, could you please pass a link to this post along? Working on a novel can and should be serious work, but it also can and should, in my humble opinion, be a home arts-and-crafts project too. Staying loose/having fun with it all, can make the long haul of creating a major piece of art seem like a lighter task. And I’ll end this by saying that no matter what happens with your completed novel, the act of writing it, revising it, finishing it, will be one of the most wonderful things you can ever add to your life.
Much Respect to You,
Bud Smith
🤘🏼🤘🏼🤘🏼
Loved this, Bud!