Telling a Story: A Journey Into the Dark?

Poet and author Robert Frost once said, "I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering."

It's an enlightening comment. If we scratch at it, unearthing some of the golden meaning hidden within, we could surmise that the poet felt as though expectations and goals were the death of creativity.  That by circumventing the natural exploration of the words and emotions behind them, it would somehow strip the work of life. Direction being a fungus bound to overtake and stifle the energy *POWER* of the work.  

In my own writing I've often found that I carry preconceptions about a story long before I get it drafted out.  XYZ character needs to be of a certain type.  She needs to meet certain objectives and obstacles. Readers will expect a certain amount of action.  Readers won't care for that type of dialogue. On and on it goes. 

It has left me wondering where these thoughts come from, and if they are good for storytelling at all.  

A little reflection shows that these ideas of how a story should be told come from the collected information I've gathered on the craft over the years. Listening to other writers, courses in literature in college, trial and error, or 'How To' books and articles I've read have all contributed to my understanding of how one goes about writing a story.

I've also learned (somewhat subconsciously) quite a lot from my favorite reads.  I never underestimate the influence of the words I read on the words I write.  Imitation is only flattery if you're doing so on purpose, after all, so it's something I'm mindful of.

In terms of whether the impact on my writing has been positive or negative, I'd have to say it's kind of a mixed bag.  I certainly believe there is value in understanding the basic constructs and principals of story telling.   There is worth in plotting, for every adventure has a beginning and an end.  To not know which is which can lead to waisted time and, worse still, losing the story entirely.  

Unfortunately, I also think yearning for too much structure has at times sucked some of the marrow from my creative bones.

In the end, I side with Frost.  I believe a story is truly told as you would navigate a cave with a lantern, which is to say a few steps at a time.  The shadows swaying like beckoning ghosts at the edge of your light will sometimes yield a dead end, and other times open up into a cavern of unimaginable depth and beauty. If you only follow a plotted course, you risk missing out on the true wonders of trip.  

In short: A story told can be good.  A story explored can be great.

So what about you? Have you ever worried so much about maintaining structure that creativity has taken a backseat?  Have you developed a way to have both in your writing? Do you write blind as Frost suggests?

~EJW~