Writing a story is a complicated business. There’s so much to know about, pay attention to, figure out. I am always on the lookout for ways to make my material manageable, to somehow get it under control! I need to wrap my head around all the various parts and at the same time see the whole thing. One of the techniques I’ve used for many years is storyboarding. I swiped the idea from comic books and pared it down to suit my end, which was to grasp the progression of the narrative and each of its parts.

Lessons from Uncle Scrooge
I was won over by the form thanks to my daughter, Anna, and her love for Uncle Scrooge comic books when she was growing up. She was struggling to learn to read about the same time I was struggling to write short stories, and we both ended up being helped by the combination of pictures and chosen words arranged chronologically on the page to tell a satisfying story. As I became increasingly aware of the need to construct my stories—by creating scenes that were linked to one another and added up, bringing the story to its climax and then its resolution—I started making primitive storyboards in my journal in order to see whether I was anywhere near such a progression. This simple technique can be used to break down your story into a manageable number of basic parts and identify them simply in terms of action and emotion.

Basically, here’s what I do: once I have a draft, or a semblance of one, or at least a general idea of the whole story, I draw a blank square for each of the story’s main scenes. (When I use this technique for novels, I devote a blank square to each chapter of the book.) In each block I draw—and I use the term loosely; I am a truly pathetic artist—a stick figure representation of the main thing that happens in that scene. There are all sorts of clues to be found in the pictures, even if, like me, you can’t draw. The size of the stick figures, the amount of white space around them, the kinds of marks you make . . . all of these have things to tell you about tone, distance, point of view. At the very least, whatever picture you sketch lets you know what you consider to be a strong visual image in your story.

Underneath each picture, I allow myself one sentence or phase to capture the crux of the scene or chapter. It’s tough to say succinctly the most important development in a given chunk of a story—but doing so helps to clarify, simplify, burrow down to the trajectory of the narrative. Each block needs to move the story forward. Plot was and still is a killer for me, and forcing myself to write down what happens in each scene or chapter keeps me aware that something needs to happen! And it needs to connect to what happened before and what happens after! It also shows me what I consider to be the most important event or development.

Storyboarding Emotions
Initially that’s all I did—one sketch, one line to describe the main event. Later on I added one more aspect to my storyboard, and it was this: I named the dominant emotion within each scene. This was very important since I usually write character-driven stories in which the emotional journey of the character determines the arc of the story. Naming the dominant emotion resulted in a kind of emotional tracking through which I could see changes in attitude and feeling and make sure there was a credible progression.

Try this exercise: think of something that happened to you as a child—or happened to your child or to a child you know. Something dramatic—emotionally charged. Take a minute to remember the incident. Now, in 6-8 squares, block out the story that has come to mind. Tell the story from the point of view of the child. Do a quick little sketch, write a line about the main thing that happens. Name the dominant emotion of each scene. Not only have you told a story—beginning, middle, and end—but you have also shown yourself the structure and progression of it.

Sometimes storyboarding helps me out during the process of a story or novel unfolding. I hope it can be of use to you, too.