ACCELERATE YOUR PROCESS WITH THE ENDING
Ever hike along a trail and stop to wonder if it will ever end? Perhaps up until that moment the cool leafy shadows inside the thick forest confuse you, worry you, and your legs ache with the climb, and your lungs take stronger pulls at the mountain air. And then, almost by accident, you emerge from the trees, the vista opens up and you see the winding trail ahead, and you see exactly where that trail ends. Ah, bliss.

Last week I entered a phase of my process I will call terra incognita, a strange place of indescribable wonders, such as: a sense of satisfaction, an inner joy, a feeling of completeness. You discover these three wonders of the world, and the entire continent of terra incognita by completing a major creative work ahead of schedule! And then the inevitable “now what?” takes hold as you stare at the contours of the continent you’ve reached.

How did I arrive at this land of the unknown? It was unexpected. As if I had taken the Drake Passage by accident and went round “the Horn” without even knowing I was sailing that way. But let’s dissect the voyage:

1. I set out to write an ending if it was the last thing I did. This project started so well and the vast yawning ocean of the “middle” lay ahead but I said, wait a second, I want to know how this will end. Let’s invent the ending now, NOW, rather than write it all in sequence. So I skipped ahead. In a play you almost don’t have to set it up too grandly, simple stage directions to get you started: where is this set? Ah, I choose this place. Then list who is present. Good. Now we just write the interactions, the needs and desires, and the moments. Choose the right time to write lights out. and End of Play!
2. Construct a frame for the middle, the scenes that you need to fill in the character’s journey from where you left off across the yawning middle to join that “end.” I listed the scenes in no particular order, such as “I need a scene with X and Y where this occurs.” or “A scene with A and X where the conflict comes to a head around this event.” These become the tent poles or bridge girders needed to fill the gap.
3. Write these scenes in any order, you will rearrange them later with the other completed scenes. You don’t have to worry at this point because you have the ending as your anchor on the other side. I liked this part because I treated each gap scene as a fun object to play inside – because I wasn’t worried about what the ending would need to be. So: freedom.
4. Reassemble the gap scenes in the play draft and see how they flow. Rearrange the scenes if it seems like the arc of the play needs it.

Why did this accelerate my process? After considering, I realize that my usual practice is to write linearly. I need to proceed front to back, a to b to c all the way to z. I will usually hang myself up somewhere around M, N, O where I stew and ponder and worry and anxious myself into inertia. Because I don’t know what happens next! The paralysis of wondering “what is the next perfect line? What is the first line of that next scene? Where is that scene set?” hangs me up for long lengths of time. The rest of the pay hangs fire until I resolve the dilemma of what happens next?

Creating the ending early pushes all the anxiety away because I know where I am headed, I know what the characters change will need to be. Any scene written then means I already know where it needs to go.