ADD, Plotting, and the "W" by Jonathan Wright Hey, all you ADD people out there, pay attention! (Ha! ADD joke!) This may not be very orderly, for reasons that will become quite clear. But it may help. Do you have ADD? Get in line. A lot of writers have ADD. For a writer, it's a weird kind of gift. And make no mistake, it is a gift. I could go on for hours about that. But certainly there are some drawbacks. You can't remember what your spouse said to you five minutes ago, but you can repeat back seventeen phone numbers from memory - along with the name and address of your first love interest, which is sure to please your spouse - any time you like.

You live by daily routine. A break in this routine absolutely drives you nuts, because you're bound to forget something you normally need to do (like feed the dog).

You have panic attacks because when you go to the airport to catch your flight, because you're terrified you'll forget your ticket. Yet you can actually VISUALIZE the entire physical progression that makes up Shihonage (Shee-ho-nah-gay), a martial arts technique which is comprised of at least four separate motions executed interdependently around the outside of a potential attacker. Your friends are awed. Until you forget the beer for the Super Bowl party.

Well, like Dirty Harry said just before he blew up the bad guy with his own bomb, "A man's got to know his limitations." That isn't as negative as it sounds. Read on.

In my opinion, there are two kinds of writers: those who use plot outlines, and those who don't. Supposedly, plot outlines are the key to successful writing. Well, I can't plot to save my ass. And I can't make use of a plot outline, because it is neat and orderly and that's not how I write. I have ADD coming out my ears, and as we all know, orderliness and ADD do not mix. But somehow I get to the end of my stories, because after a long, long time of trial and error, I have developed a kind of "method".

The first part of the Method is the "W". This is something every writer needs to commit to memory, especially people with ADD. And you can, because memory isn't your problem. Hey, wake up! Pay attention! THAT's your problem. So listen, here's how it works:

The "W" refers to the roller coaster ride that the protagonist of a story endures on his way to enlightenment.

In a classic (or standard) thriller/adventure/tale-of-horror, the protagonist (to avoid gender-plex, let's say it's a guy) usually starts out in some sort of moderately comfortable, albeit dull existence. Whatever he does, it's what he does, and it's what passes for normal in his life, even if it's dealing with monsters. This is the first high point in the "W".

Then something happens, and it's usually (though not always) bad, but it upsets his normalcy. Joe Horn meets Sarah Fenton, and he starts to GET INVOLVED. This is dangerous for Joe. He can't afford to get involved. It's hard enough surviving on his own, let alone trying to protect someone else. So, at this point he is not in control of his destiny, being swept along by events, and he starts a slide toward the bottom of the first leg of the "W".

At some point, he rebounds, fighting back, improvising clever responses to the situation. Hey, he's winning! Maybe he confronts the monster and survives, giving him hope that maybe he can defeat it. Maybe he gets laid, too. He feels like he's got his groove back. Cool. Thus he ascends the second leg of the "W".

Then things start going to hell again, only worse this time. The monster turns the tables. The girl leaves him, or he leaves the girl, whatever. Down the third leg he slides. This is really bad. Bad things become BAD things (in Joe Horn stories, more people get eaten).

Finally, he can go no lower. He seems to have lost everything. The bad guy (especially if he is an Evil Overlord) laughs manically in triumph as the protagonist is moments away from ultimate doom.

This is the defining point in the book. This is where the hero has to RISK EVERYTHING, normally by abandoning whatever he though he needed to survive in the first place, and often by giving up the very thing he seeks.

Joe Horn looks around and realizes he should never have let the girl get away, realizes the monster has been toying with him, and is about to finish him off. But the spark of defiance and hope remains. In order to WIN, he must do something he has never done before. By doing this, and committing to the ultimate risk, he reaps the ultimate payoff. And thus he wins.

The denouement, or "after glow" is the final leg of the "W", where the protagonist reaps his reward for prevailing (or surviving), and more importantly, we see that he now views the world in a different way than when the story began.

The "W" is the basis of everything you write. But usually the "W" requires a plot outline, and as we have seen, I do not do plot outlines. So how do I get the appropriate end result?

I have ADD, remember? I use it. Understand this: the plot outline is not your enemy, and it is not the orderly person's advantage over you. It is the orderly person's life preserver. The orderly person uses the plot outline not because they CAN, but because they MUST. Without the plot outline, the orderly person is lost. Nowheresville. I know a couple of writers who are very orderly. Very good writers, too. But there's something they don't get. They ask me, "How can you know how the story is going to end before you outline the plot?"

I can do this because I have an advantage. One characteristic of ADD people is that they often have the ability to literally leap to a conclusion. When I have a story beginning, sometimes I just "know" how it is going to end. All I have to do is fill in the middle. Not in any orderly fashion, mind you. I just run through one plot contrivance after another, until I get something that feels right.

I use the "W" as a template, to show me if and where the plot point fits into the story. For example, out of the blue (typical source for my ideas) I decided that it would be cool if Sally the Succubus, a soulless shape-changing, vampire-demon creature, conceived an emotional attachment to Joe Horn. She actually falls for him. But Joe has already fallen for Sarah, a very human babe who is just his type. Sally is a little too late. Suppose Joe confronts Sally about that. It might be bittersweet, or sad in some other way, as Joe realizes he has to abandon a pretty appealing part of his life (getting laid by a female who takes the shape you desire? Not too appealing, huh?), even though he isn't sure he'll get the girl yet. Well, this obviously has to occur on one of the downside legs, right? So, in my mind I click it into place somewhere, to see how it looks.

I keep throwing words at the page until I get something that works. I keep holding it up to the "W", checking and rechecking. I may change the plot a hundred times in my head, as I see how the story develops on paper. Really, a hundred times. I work at it until I get it the way that feels right. That's the reason I don't know how it's going to turn out. It has to sort of "emerge". Those of you with ADD will understand this.

One thing: ADD people are often maligned as having short attention spans and lacking discipline. These are two separate things and I can assure you that while ADD people often have short attention spans, anyone who can sit down and pound out a book has discipline. All writing is work, and good writing is hard work. Give yourself credit.

Another thing: LISTEN TO YOUR EDITOR. ADD people have a hard time with perspective. Sometimes I can't tell if something looks right, even if I'm using my "W" template. My editor is essentially my crit partner. She gives me the outside view that I can never achieve. Like, "Are you nuts? This absolutely does not work!" Uh, okay, I knew that…

Details are the bane of ADD people. Trust me, in this business, regardless of how good you are, No Man Is An Island. And if you have ADD, you will miss details, and as Mies van der Roe said, "God is in the details." Thus, your editor is God. Listen to God.

Finally, remember this: Take Harry Callahan's advice. Recognize your limitations and go with your strengths. That's one serious advantage ADD gives you. Most people with ADD are remarkably introspective. They know themselves pretty well. Better than most shrinks. Use that knowledge. Make yourself a better writer.