The Slow-cooker Step

The title of this post may have caught your attention because it sounds like something you’d do when cooking dinner rather than drafting a novel. Slow-cooker is a rather unusual name for a part of the book-creation process, but it’s a step that I’ve come to realize is essential –at least for me. 

I am a hardcore pantser. This means that I draft most of my novels off of a few pages of ideas, perhaps a concept, and some character development. My focus is on the characters. The defining mark of a pantser is they just take the story and go. I’ve pretty much always been this way. I take an idea, sit down, and start to write it. 

The opposite of a pantser is a plotter. Plotters take time to create an outline, perhaps several pages of worldbuilding, character folios, etc. I have never been a plotter by choice, but both sides have benefits. 

What I have learned through my half-dozen novels (All pantsed) is that if I’m not going to have an outline or anything more than a general hope for the story, there are going to need to be a few extra steps. 

Enter the slow-cooker step. 

In order to be able to sit down and just write a draft, I have to have internalized the story. I can’t get the idea and then have the novel a week later. Perhaps this is my own version of creating an outline. I prefer to think of it like a crock-pot. I’ll add all of the ingredients: Raw meat, dried herbs, some broth, potatoes, carrots, and celery. Except for me it’s: A defining idea, a cool name, a fascinating world thought, vibes, a character who introduced themselves a little while ago, and a song that caught my eye.

Then I let it all simmer in the pot/brain for two or three months. Just like in a pressure cooker, separate items start to share their benefits with the other things. The dried thyme lets its flavor seep into the meat (The character takes shape) the potatoes and carrots soften (worldbuilding pulling together) and the broth smooths everything out (lines and ideas join up to make scenes) 

What I’m left with is far from perfect. But it’s enough to sustain a story. 

And more importantly, I have both space to explore the story and enough knowledge of the tale to properly draft it. 

Now enough with all of these dinner metaphors –how does it actually work? 

The slow cooker steps has two parts for me. The first one is actually super easy: Nothing. I’m a writer. My brain is always piecing together story ideas, collecting characters and snippets and thoughts. I keep these in line with notebooks, google docs, and the ever-handy notes app. That’s the first step. 

The second step is letting the words flow. For me, this must be done the old fashioned way, on pen and paper. Because this is play time. This is where I sit down to write whatever comes to mind (Should be done minimum of once a month) and just see what happens. 

This step is how I knew it was time to rewrite The Traitor’s Daughter. If you asked me to show you my notebooks, I could show you pages and pages of snippets from TTD, scenes rewritten, scenes added, just two characters having a conversation. I was getting to know not only the characters, but the story. 

To be an effective pantser and not lose steam halfway through the draft, this step is essential. I think that this is why so many pansters (And even just authors) don’t finish their drafts. They don’t know the story enough to know how it’s going to end. 

I started writing Tiger Lily two years before I wrote Tiger Lily. The first idea was an angry girl and a tiger. I typed it out on the notes app on my phone quite literally two years before I ever attempted to draft it. I was working on another project at the time, and just needed a break for a day. This is how I entertain new ideas without losing focus on my current draft. 

Those are the two parts of the slow cooker step: Leave the ideas alone and let your writer’s brain get to work, then let the ideas flow. 

If you want to be more intentional about this step, then take some time where you write scenes you’re interested in from new ideas. Nobody’s mind works the same way, and while mine likes to marinate on new ideas while actively working on the work in progress, some people need singular focus or have multiple projects. 

But the slow-cooker step might also not be for you. It’s one that I discovered about myself naturally. I actually figured it out when I skipped it. I got an idea that I loved so much that I made it my new work in progress only a few weeks after I pieced it together, once I finished my current book. That was a mistake. I made it a third of the way through the book before I realized that I couldn’t write it. I didn’t know the characters well enough. I didn’t have the story internalized. I couldn’t write the draft. 

So I stopped. When Dragons Sang will become a story someday soon, but no amount of pinterest boards, brainstorming, and focused writing can replace the slow-cooker step for me. The story needs time. 

How will I know I’m ready to write it? The same way I knew that The Traitor’s Daughter was ready. Snippets of the story will start to leak out of me. I’ll be thinking about it. It will be the first thing I write when I need to write something for fun and relaxation. Then I’ll know that I can take it to the drafting board. We’re not quite there yet. But we will be someday.

The slow cooker step isn’t essential for everyone, but it sure is for me. What about you? What are unusual steps that are of the utmost importance for you while you’re writing?