Thoughts on Alarm Clock: The first casualty of writing is the outline · 8:33am Feb 16th, 2015
In my note to the final chapter, I alluded to my initial plans for the story being very different. Now, I’ll describe it in more detail, because I love hearing myself talk.
When I first came up with the idea of Ditzy seeing other dimensions and other craziness, there were just a few scenes that popped into my head, that I knew I had to include in the eventual story. They all centered around giving “the real story” behind Ditzy’s strange behavior in the background of other stories. (1.) Why did Ditzy poke her head out of Fluttershy’s chicken coop in “May the Best Pet Win”? Because she walked down a fairy-path that led right into that chicken coop. (2.) Why did Ditzy wreck Town Hall in “The Last Roundup”? Because that was the only way to stop a Cosmic Horror from entering Equestria. (3.) What is the deal with Ditzy emptying Carrot Top’s fridge? Because dangerous wormholes, that’s why.
So I started slapping these down on paper. My plan at this point didn’t involve any sort of plot—it was just a series of vignettes. In particular, the act of wrecking Town Hall didn’t get any more focus than Ditzy’s other cleanup jobs. My first idea was that the damage we saw on-screen in the episode was enough to stop the Cosmic Horror. I guess I was following the lyrics of that song pretty closely: Ditzy Doo saves Equestria a bunch and is completely blasé about it. I even thought of ending the story with Princess Celestia giving Ditzy some award for her actions, and Ditzy just not understanding why it’s a big deal.
But two of my prereaders asked me the crucial question: “What’s the point of any of this?” At this time, I had the cosmic horror, I had the fairies, I had the wormhole in the fridge, and I had the mirror portal into the snowglobe (planned in my head, if not written down yet)—and they were still just events that happened, with no connection to one another. But I realized that a cosmic horror was big enough that I could make it the overarching problem of the story. And only then did I realize that the other story elements could be jury-rigged into a more elaborate way for Ditzy to get rid of the cosmic horror.
I basically MacGyver’d inside my own brain.
The other big example of the story changing as I tried to write it, came much later. It was Constable Peeler’s big scene in “Fridge Over Troubled Waters”. Believe it or not, my first plan was for Dr. Hooves to wave his R.S.S. badge in Peeler’s face, and Peeler to immediately capitulate and surrender Ditzy to Hooves’ custody, and then disappear until the morning after. This plan held until I actually had to write the scene. I realized two things: (1) Jurisdiction friction really ought to be in effect. And (2) Peeler’s apparent obsession with law and order is because he really, really cares about his fellow ponies. So, suddenly I had Peeler siding with Ditzy against Dr. Hooves. Then it was logically obvious that Peeler should be the one leading the search for survivors in the Town Hall wreckage. And then it was clear that Peeler would really want to hear Ditzy’s explanation of what the heck just happened.
I resorted to Ditzy grossing him out with that talk of brain parasites because dammit policehorse, just leave already!
There are a few smaller changes that I sort of alluded to in the story itself. When Ditzy steals the egg from the henhouse, she thinks “I was afraid I’d have to steal an egg right from underneath a sleeping hen.” That’s because in my first draft, she really did have to do exactly that. Then I did some research into chicken behavior and found out about roosting shelves, so that was out.
Also, initially Ditzy actually did get a mirror cutter from Rarity. Half the reason for the subplot about the gold flower plant was to set up Ditzy and Rarity’s acquaintance, so it wouldn’t feel like an asspull when Ditzy got the mirror cutter. Then my own brain basically told me the same thing Rarity tells Ditzy. I still have Ditzy ask Rarity for it in the final story, basically to make fun of myself for ever considering that plot point.
Is there a point to all this? I’d strongly discourage trying to write a story of any significant length without some kind of plan. But planning and doing don’t have to be mutually exclusive steps: you get new ideas while you’re putting words to paper, you get feedback on your first draft, and you use those the change your plan for the story. In my own case, I did more successful planning in the weeks when I was actively writing, than in the months when I couldn’t write a word.
I've tried both approaches, and while both have worked at times, they've also failed. Really, it depends on the story. Still, going in with at least some idea of where you're going is generally a good idea.
Either way, its a kick-ass story.