Are you a plotter, or are you a pantser? As much as I resist being categorized, this one’s an exception. I fit squarely into the pantsing box. Actually, I prefer to call myself a “discovery writer”*.
In my ongoing quest of learning the craft of writing, I’ve devoured a large number of books (yes, it’s a pattern). Most of the instruction came squarely down on the plotting side. Three-act structure. Hero’s journey. Plot points to be checked off somewhere between page 50 and 60. Hey, what’s the matter? That’s a whole TEN PAGES of leeway. I tried. I really did, but my mind doesn’t work that way.
It’s funny, really. In almost every other aspect of my life I’m an organizing fiend. I actually enjoy filing papers. I’m an efficiency machine. I’ve got my systems all set up. Hints of GTD, managed in WorkFlowy, liberally mixed with bullet journaling, minus the inefficiency, of course, with a dash of morning pages thrown in. It’s beautiful. Yes. I’m weird.
When it comes to writing, though, I’m a mess. A white-hot mess. Every story starts out with a character. I don’t know where they come from, where they’re going, or why they’re in my head. All I know about them is a few vivid details. A trait they have. A challenge they need to work with. I take it to the blank page from there. One word at a time I figure out who they are, what they want, what stands in their way, and how they’re going to get what they want (or not). Word by word the character develops. The story develops. Writing and pre-writing happen in the same draft. And then I untangle it all over rolling rounds of revisions.
Of course it’s a horribly inefficient way of writing. An entire novel’s worth of words end up on the cutting-room floor. But that’s all right. I’ve long made my peace with the fact that I overdescribe everything and write down every step and thought and gesture. I need it to orient myself in the story. To find out who the characters are and what motivates them. No character questionnaires for me. If my characters think their favorite food or color is in any way relevant, they’ll tell me. If not, well, they probably don’t give a damn, so why should I?
Still, I’ve had my doubts. Outlining seems such a clean, efficient way of writing. No wasted time or effort. So I beat myself over the head for a while trying to become a plotter. Um. No. I tried outlining for a NaNoWriMo project. I had the entire story mapped out… except on the second day I was already miles away from the outline. So I gave up. Back to discovery writing. 50,000 words in a month? No problem.
Around that time, I read Steven James’ “Story Trumps Structure” and went to a workshop where Lee Child talked about his writing process. What relief! What vindication! You can call yourself a writer even if you don’t know how your story’s going to end before you write the opening sentence.
Actually, the story I’m currently working on sits at 125,000 words – and I have three possible endings in mind. Who knows? There might be a fourth that will make the cut.
It’s the surprises bubbling up from the swamp of my subconscious that keep drawing me back to the stories day after day.
* “Pantsing” makes me cringe and think of Sponge Bob, and “organic writer” sounds like granola and soy sprouts. “Discovery writer”, on the other hand, has a certain sense of adventure to it.