And I guess I can dismiss the idea so readily because, deep down, I'm not terrified to lose these broad sweeping ideas because that's never quite what makes the story/book/script great. It's the little things. The subtlety and subtext and damn it those little things are hard to come by and easily forgotten. That's what you need to write down; that's the stuff that has me scrambling for a cocktail napkin (I have never in my life, not once, scrambled for a napkin of any kind).
By and large, those little things are the result of layers upon layers of planning and editing. They are the product of time and effort, which is why it's so easy to spot a lazy script. I don't necessarily mean a bad script or even an amateur script, but the ones that are really infuriating because they're told logically, all the essential elements are there and yet they are lacking. They're hollow. Someone didn't put in the effort.
As an audience, these aren't things you notice in the story right away; they come to light two or three days later when you're still thinking about this movie because of how great it was. There's this thing in Inception where if the people who are dreaming draw too much attention to themselves, then the subconscious can start to notice and begin attacking the dreamer. This is a little thing - you don't really need it for the rest of the movie to make sense, but take it away and you lose this kind of depth, you lose that little extra sense of suspense and urgency that is so perfectly aligned with what the movie is; most importantly, you lose that moment where Joseph Gordon Levitt gets Ellen Page to kiss him (which I know I can't live without).
Inception is actually the perfect metaphor for what I'm talking about. You can't just choose to go into a single level dream or a really super deep gray beaches and dilapidated buildings level dream; you have to move through each layer until you reach the one you're really looking for. Those ideas that really elevate the story are a thought within a thought within a thought within a thought. You have to go down the rabbit hole of ideas and you have to write them down every step of the way because once you get to the next layer you'll have forgotten how you got there and you won't be able to replicate that process with any certainty.
And all this just to point out that we need outlines. Seriously, we do. If you could sit down and in one session complete a work, from dreaming it up to final edit, then there would be no need to outline, to make treatments, tables, beat sheets, note cards and all those other little cheats. But you can't. You have to sleep, you have to eat, most of us have to work. We have to take these insufferable breaks so that we don't starve to death or get divorced and when we come back there needs to be a way to resume where we left off; we need to leave ourselves a little trail of breadcrumbs so that it's not all starting over every damn time we sit down. The outline, that beat sheet, however you decide to do it, that is your way back. Without these things, the thought of returning to your writing and starting from virtual scratch day after day is too daunting and you won't do it. You just won't.
Now, there are people, professional writers even, who claim they don't outline. They don't need to. Once again, I don't believe them. I don't - maybe they have impeccable memory, maybe they have a running list of "cool little things that will make my script seem better," but I don't buy it and more importantly I know from experience that I can't do it. Outlining is a bitch, it really is, but you push through and you get the job done. You put in the damn effort. You make sometime great.
And you drink.
Your milk.
In your cereal, because cereal is the food of the gods and of the writing muses who do give their blessings to all who partake.
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