That kind of freedom doesn't work well in most written stories. In good writing, there is usually some source of constriction—something that puts pressure on the plot and characters, something that creates suspense and tension that open-ended issues just don't have.
Time constriction is one of the most obvious strategies. Silly as it was, there's a reason that the 1914 "Perils of Pauline" became famous. It was quite literally built on the idea of an irresistable force bearing down on an immovable object, with the added excitement of an unpostponable point of collision built in.
Obviously, you'll want to use time constriction in a subtler form that a thundering train coming down the track (although the late Dick Francis used that very device in suitably updated form to excellent effect in his novel The Edge). It goes without saying that the level of subtlety should align with the type of story you're telling. What's right for a thriller is overkill for a literary novel; what is right for a literary novel might be overkill for a comic caper. The same elements or motifs might be used in each, but their degree of drama and exaggeration would likely vary hugely.
An external event is the most obvious source of time construction. A wedding, a divorce, an eviction. A sentence of some sort: death sentence, terminal diagnosis, upcoming decision by a jury. A deadline.
Characters in the story other than the protagonist(s) can also provide good sources of constriction. The source of tension in most murder mysteries, for example, is the fact that the murderer is out there plotting further mayhem while the detective struggles to figure out the crime. The shady activities of a personal or organizational enemy, the dangerous activities of a friend, the destructive activities of someone who is troubled or flawed all create time pressure.
Finally, of course, you can create time pressure within a protagonist him or herself. Protagonists doesn't have long to figure things out if their child is being bullied, their spouse is suffering some kind of mental disintegration, or their mother is dying with her deepest wish unfulfilled. A protagonist living an increasingly unbearable lie must act, and act soon, whether or not their secret would be revealed by someone else. A protatonist obsessed with an overwhelming ambition or passionate dream won't dally, either. Nor will one struggling with a depression so deep he or she wants to die, and soon.
Discussed like this, such devices sound sort of silly. But they can be used with immensely powerful effect and great subtlety. The return of Sir Thomas Bertram from the West Indies is one element of time constriction in Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. The growing suspicion of the protagonist that she has been duped provides time pressure in Winston Graham's masterful The Walking Stick. Penelope's suitors create time constriction in The Odyssey, the coming of Christmas Day in A Christmas Carol, the end of the author's journey in Eat Pray Love, the fading of day and the coming of bad weather in Jon Krakauer's Everest memoir Into Thin Air. You don't notice time constriction in these stories consciously; you just feel a satisfying awareness of tension. And you'll notice that there are works of nonfiction on this list; while nonfiction writers can't invent constrictive devices like fiction writers can, they can, and do, make use of existing constrictions in their material to create a suspenseful tale.
Members of the BookStrategy Writers Group are invited to write a short piece that utilizes time constriction in some way for our next Group meeting on November 9. Have fun, gang. Get creative.
Non-members who live in the Treasure Coast area are welcome to join us. Click the Group link above for information.
Those of you with no current, future, or even possible relationship to the Writers Group are invited to have a nice Friday.
And you'd better do it now. Because before you know it, it'll be Saturday.
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