Plotting or Pantsing?

The way that anyone writes their book looks different from person to person. There are writers that must start by completing a detailed outline that covers every little detail. These people are considered true plotters, because they must plot every point. On the other end of the spectrum, there are writers that start by putting words on the page, letting their intuition guide their story. These are known as pantsers, because they write by the seat of their pants. Most people find themselves in the middle, like me. I’m going to talk through my process and show you that there are no hard rules in writing, but like most art forms, there are benefits to learning the rules before you decide to break them.

When most people are taught how to write, they are taught to use an outline. This makes sense as a starting point because it gives the student a guide to where they are going when they are unpracticed. Without it, their writing might wander and lose the point entirely. That is the purpose of an outline. It is the self-created bumpers at the sides of the bowling lane. How much guidance someone needs, though, depends on the individual and the complexity of their story. 

For example, Speak with the Dead involves worldbuilding and plot that I plan to carry through into several books in a series, alongside a large cast of characters. Like most epic fantasies, it is fairly complex. I always start by creating an outline using the very technical word-vomiting technique (I was validated in this format by Brandon Sanderson, who does something similar.) I quickly compile any events I think should happen in the story, any worldbuilding elements I want to include, and any characters I know are involved, as chronologically as possible. This is the ‘sketch’ phase of my story. When an artist creates a work, they’ll roughly scratch out simple thumbnail versions of their work. This would be a similar phase for a work of writing. What this usually ends up looking like is two or three pages of half-gibberish that only I understand completely, but that shows me what I find important to the story and creates a messy, often disjointed skeleton for me to start working from. I did one short round of clean up on my rambling outline for Speak with the Dead by organizing it in a semblance of a timeline and plotting the major points of the next books (i.e. who’s the BBEG, what is the climax of each book, and a general idea of where the characters start and end in relation to the main plot), and then I was off to the races. 

Alternatively, a writer could take this tangled web and weave it into a detailed outline that shows them exactly what happens in each chapter and each individual scene. However, that is where my plotting wheels fall off and I put on my pantsing hat. I prefer to sit with the characters in the scenes and get to know them. My outlined version of a character gives me about the same information as we get from an NPC character sheet in a TTRPG–I can see what they vaguely look like and what their general skills are, but the rest is waiting to be developed. Also, if I tried to plot each chapter and scene, I’d find myself revising my detailed outline often. Instead, all I need to start with are the answers to these questions: Who is involved? Where are they at? Where do they need to go? (As in, where do they need to go in the plot/story, not necessarily where they need to physically go in the world.) 

This usually means I get through the beginning arc of the story (usually about a third of the book) developing characters and the world around them in the scenes themselves. I find that when I’m using my intuition, the characters will tell me exactly who they are and how they would act. These ‘flow state’ moments are one of my favorite things about writing. At that point of the story I can pause my writing and take another look at my chaotic outline. That’s how it worked with Speak with the Dead. When the team was assembled in Kastarus I felt I had a firm grasp on who they all were and what it meant for the plot, and it was quite different than I had originally thought!

Now that I’m familiarized with the characters and setting, I put my plotting hat back on and edit my outline of madness to reflect any changes. Note, my outline will still be some gibberish to anyone but myself, which is why it’s impossible for me to provide an actual example. I also go back through what I wrote and fix or highlight any inconsistencies. Then, I compare my outline and what I’ve written to popular pacing guidelines such as a five act or three act structure. Speak with the Dead is based on a five act structure. I take my main plot points and I fit them into this structure. This also helps me guess how long my story will be (too long, usually) and if I’m on the right track.

For someone else, this might be a great place to plot out individual chapters, but not for me. I take that plotting hat right back off and put my comfy pantsing hat back on. I write toward the next major plot point. The rest of the first draft is a consistent rinse-and-repeat of this process. After major plot points I take another look at my outline and the plan develops a little further. By the end, I know exactly what bigger edits I need to make (or sometimes have already made because I tend to edit as I go) to make the story successful. For Speak with the Dead I did one major sweep through my first draft before I sent it to my editor for developmental editing. That was the first book I ever had professionally edited, so I was also using her feedback as a measure of where I was skill-wise. I was pleasantly surprised to find she loved the story (I’m usually hard on myself) and she helped me tweak some things to make it really shine. I highly recommend this step for any writer, no matter the level. It’s great to get an unbiased look from a true professional. I’ll talk about finding the perfect editor and the editing process in a future blog post!

I would say my process sits right in the middle of plotting and pantsing. I’m sure that with new stories I’ll shift to one side or the other depending on what I’m working on, but I know I’ll always be somewhere in the middle. I hope my process inspires you to use what you find helpful and throw out what you don’t. In the end, we’re all different and our stories and processes will all be different, too! Embrace what works best for you!