Thongs for Modesty and the Limits of a Perfect Outline

I never expected that building a system to help organize Sarah’s story would lead me to something as bizarrely memorable as “thongs for modesty,” but here we are. When I first started working on her book, I thought I had it all figured out—clear chapters, neat themes, a tidy spreadsheet. But after our very first interview, about 70% of what she shared refused to fit where I thought it would.

Even though my outline was thematically oriented (rather than a strict chapter-by-chapter blueprint), her stories kept crossing lines in ways I hadn’t expected. It left me wondering whether any planned structure—no matter how flexible—could fully handle the actual complexity of her life.

My initial plan was to shape each interview around a single chapter, gathering stories tied to that part of the outline. But reality didn’t cooperate. Take one anecdote about her father’s rules—on the surface, it belonged in a “family dynamics” chapter. Except it also sparked conversations about rebellion, hypocrisy, and moral gray areas. Trying to contain it within one neat segment felt like forcing a puzzle piece where it didn’t belong. Even a “good” framework couldn’t predict how each anecdote would spill into multiple categories at once.

That’s when I realized I needed to zoom out. My original outline wasn’t rigid, but it still wasn’t open enough. Instead of sticking to “the childhood chapter,” we’d talk about her childhood more broadly—guided by themes, but not so tightly that I’d miss unexpected connections. This let me keep the spirit of my original plan without getting tangled in its details.

Anchoring interviews to broader sections and themes gave us more breathing room. Sarah could follow her own threads, and I could adjust as needed. Overlaps and connections started to appear—moments that threaded across multiple parts of her life—patterns I’d never have noticed if I kept trying to fit everything into neat boxes.

I could have gone even further, maybe just saying, “Let’s talk about your life, period.” Maybe I will later. For now, focusing on sections hits a sweet spot: there’s enough structure to keep me from drifting, but enough freedom that neither Sarah nor I feel restricted.

Of course, I needed somewhere to put all these insights. That’s where the Narrative Discovery Table came in. It started as a basic spreadsheet for collecting snippets. But as I refined how I tagged each snippet’s emotional tone, narrative function, and themes, I began to see not just what happened, but why it mattered.

By labeling each excerpt for emotional tone, narrative function, and themes, I got a clearer sense of how each piece fit into the bigger picture. Was it showing a moral struggle, adding unexpected humor, or challenging authority?

For example, consider how Sarah’s perception of her father’s authority shifts from trust to doubt:

“When you’re 10… he said he’d choose my husband. I was like, ‘Oh, sweet! No worries.’ But later, when I liked boys he wouldn’t approve of, I realized he doesn’t know me well enough.”

Once tagged for Emotional Atmosphere, Narrative Function, and Thematic Threads, this wasn’t just a teenage disagreement. It pinpointed the moment Sarah’s naive faith met the reality of personal freedom.

Then there was a moment of pure, unexpected comedy: one earnest staff member suggested the girls wear “special undergarments” that wouldn’t leave visible panty lines. Sarah recalled:

“She said we might need certain special undergarments… something that doesn’t leave a line… One of the girls said, ‘Are you talking about a thong?’ and we just lost it.”

Once I added this to the table and tagged it—not just for Emotional Tone and Themes, but with Narrative Function entries like “Shows human side and unintended humor in strict environment” and “Rigid modesty standards leading to ironic advice”—it became more than a throwaway gag. It was another piece of the puzzle, showing how even the strictest settings had their moments of levity and how awkward rules could spark laughter.

These two examples—the father’s authority and the thong mishap—are just a glimpse of what this approach can surface. Across hundreds of snippets, patterns are emerging: subtle shifts in Sarah’s moral compass, authority questioned in unexpected places, and humor cutting through formality.

I’ve taken some of these findings and drafted short passages from them. Sarah loved what she read, which tells me this isn’t just data-shuffling. It’s about finding the tone and details that actually work.

I’m still not sure how it’ll all come together in the final draft. Zooming out to sections, relying on themes, and using the Narrative Discovery Table doesn’t fix everything, but it keeps me from getting stuck. It helps me catch connections I would’ve missed if I forced everything into pre-labeled bins. For now, that’s good enough. I’ll see where it leads.