My Writing Process

Every writer can be loosely lumped into one of four categories. In this post I want to talk about my writing process as a Sequential Composer. First, though, let's take a quick look at the four types of writers:

1. Heavy Planners -- Write out the essay. Then begin it.

2. Heavy Revisers -- Speak first, think later.

3. Sequential Composers -- Write a little, edit a little. Repeat.

4. Procrastinators -- You know who you are.

There are advantages and disadvantages to each of these methods. But for better or worse, I am a sequential composer. And I stand by it, dammit! Let's take a deeper look at the art of sequential composition....

Ochel, Evita. "Treehouse, Trees, Natural, Nature, Trunk, Green, Wood" 2/25/2015 via pixabay.
Public Domain Dedication License 

What exactly makes me a Sequential Composer? 

For me, writing is like building a treehouse. I have a vision, but it's up in the trees. Not quite concrete. Forget consultations, blueprints, and logistics -- you don't plan a treehouse, dammit! It's a work of imagination.

So I start with my hammer, a few boards and some nails. Once a couple pieces are in place, I step back and survey my work. Hmm... that one still has a nail sticking out. Bang, bang. This board is supposed to support the whole treehouse, but it's not resting on the thickest limb. Bang, bang. Okay, now let's add a few more boards...


Am I a pure Sequential Composer, or do I sneak in some other techniques now and then? 

Of course! Why box yourself in? Though the bulk of my method is Sequential Composition, I like to incorporate a few [Light] Planner elements. Let's get this straight, I won't be drawing up council-approved blueprints for my treehouse. But before I start, I might sit down with a crisp sheet of printer paper and a selection of bright crayons. That way I can have a vision of my treehouse to guide and renew my inspiration as I build.


Is there any downside to Sequential Composition?

Yes, yes, I'll admit it. Sequential Composer's aren't perfect. Like all mankind, we have our vices. Namely, the sin of digression. Without the structure of a blueprint, the Sequential Composer often finds him or herself in the stony wasteland of irrelevancy. Remember when your high school teacher told you to stick to the prompt? Head wisdom, all ye wayward creatures!

Yes, Sequential Composers sometimes build a window in their treehouses where they should really build a door. But this isn't all bad. Sequential Composition allows for a writing piece to unfold organically. It leaves room for the work to shape itself, for the muse to strike. As some of the great thinkers have speculated, perhaps even our sin is holy. Innovation and style distinguish the architecture of a Sequential Composer.


Could I benefit by expanding my methods?

Absolutely. In my opinion, the greatest artists possess an uncanny ability to implement paradox. To simultaneous plan and go with the flow. To be some days ahead of schedule and others nights sleepless before a deadline.

Specifically, I think my writing could be improved by a deeper respect for final-product editing. Sure, I edit as I go, crafting a sentence or paragraph before moving on. But when my treehouse is finished, is its design functional holistically?  Do all the elements work together? A beautiful sentence loses life when not rooted in the earth of a whole work.


So what's your writing method? Any other sequential composers out there?