I always have a road map. It is an outline that gets revised as I move along. I start with, “How does this movie start? What’s the first scene? What’s the scene after that?” And I bite off a little piece at a time. It’s like climbing a mountain. You can’t look at the mountain top, you just have to look at the ridge you’re on.
I start with a full outline. Not every beat will be hammered down and I rarely stick to the original file. I always over-outline. … As I write, I amend and revise and condense. I wouldn’t call it an outline, I’d call it a road map that I detour from.
I remember reading long, long ago one of Joseph Wambaugh‘s early non-fiction crime books about a serial killer around Philadelphia. The man had managed to assume several false identities and did an impressive job of deceiving people. The thing that Wambaugh mentioned repeatedly throughout the book was that the most common comment from the people who were taken in by the killer’s deceptions was that “his stories were so specific.”