"I plot the first 5 or 6 chapters quite minutely, and also the end. So I know where I am going but not how I'm going to get there, which gives characters the chance to develop organically, as happens in real life as you get to know a person"
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Novelists love to posture as either tyrannical architects or blissed-out improvisers; Joanna Trollope neatly refuses the binary. Her method is half map, half weather report: the first stretch and the destination are fixed, but the lived middle stays mercurial. That balance is the point. She’s staking a claim for narrative control without suffocating the very thing contemporary literary fiction prizes most: the illusion that characters aren’t puppets.
The intent is practical - a craft note about process - but the subtext is a quiet manifesto against over-determination. By plotting “quite minutely” at the start, Trollope grants herself the confidence to write with velocity and clarity; by withholding the “how,” she creates a space where accidents, contradictions, and small decisions can accumulate into personality. That’s why her analogy to real life lands. We don’t meet people as complete dossiers. We watch them reveal themselves under pressure, in repetition, in unexpected tenderness or pettiness. Trollope wants the reader to feel that same discovery, and she wants the writer to earn it.
Context matters: as a novelist closely associated with sharp social observation and domestic realism, Trollope is implicitly defending the genre’s central trick. “Organic” isn’t a mystical claim; it’s a pledge that psychological plausibility will outrank plot mechanics. The end may be known, but the path must look like choice - and choice, in fiction as in life, is where character becomes legible.
The intent is practical - a craft note about process - but the subtext is a quiet manifesto against over-determination. By plotting “quite minutely” at the start, Trollope grants herself the confidence to write with velocity and clarity; by withholding the “how,” she creates a space where accidents, contradictions, and small decisions can accumulate into personality. That’s why her analogy to real life lands. We don’t meet people as complete dossiers. We watch them reveal themselves under pressure, in repetition, in unexpected tenderness or pettiness. Trollope wants the reader to feel that same discovery, and she wants the writer to earn it.
Context matters: as a novelist closely associated with sharp social observation and domestic realism, Trollope is implicitly defending the genre’s central trick. “Organic” isn’t a mystical claim; it’s a pledge that psychological plausibility will outrank plot mechanics. The end may be known, but the path must look like choice - and choice, in fiction as in life, is where character becomes legible.
Quote Details
| Topic | Writing |
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