Blogger: Wendy Lawton
I’ve been thinking about fiction, specifically about seat-of-the-pants writers this past week. Most writing blogs and workshops identify two kinds of novelists, the planner or as they are often called, the plotter, and the seat-of-the-pants writer, sometimes called a pantser.
NaNoWriMo defines the seat-of-the-pants writer like this: “. . . writers who love to plop down each day at the computer or over a pad of paper and just write, letting your story flow without planning, anxious to see where your story takes you.” From: NaNoWriMo Workshop – Plot « Write Anything
You can find some fun discussions of these two styles online– plotter vs. pantser. Most list pros and cons for each and are carefully nonjudgmental. Forget nonjudgmental. I think there are some real drawbacks to being a seat-of-the-pants writer and I believe there are some genres in which it becomes a true handicap, like suspense and mystery.
Let me tell you why:
Finely Crafted Book: I just picked up a new book and noted that in the myriad reviews one thing was mentioned over and over. The book was “finely crafted.” I’ve thought about that and how important it is to me. I’m a very picky reader. I wish I could just get lost in the story and ignore things like structure and technique but it’s impossible. I come to a book as two types of reader—the eager, story-loving one and the one who looks at the work with an editor’s eye. We all want to deliver a finely crafted book, but the seat-of-the-pants writer is setting himself a time-consuming task to impose structure and craftsmanship at the rewrite stage. A finely crafted book is meticulously planned. The creativity is in the writing and characterization, but knowing who the character is and where the story is going from the very beginning will save the writer a mountain of rewriting.
Story Arc: Each book needs a carefully crafted story arc–the structure of the story. This rarely happens organically. It’s true that after the seat-of-the-pants writer gets comfortable with his character he can go back during rewrite to create the story arc, but it entails much more work than to plan it out in advance.
Pacing: The pacing of a book is essential to a riveting read. I’ve found with manuscripts written by seat-of-the-pants writers the pacing is often off. Rather than carefully calculating the pace–giving enough lead time to key scenes along with enough time for us to absorb important events–the author writes the scenes as she pictures them. If the writing flows on that particular day the scene is long. If the writing is staccato on another day, the scene is clipped.
Continuity of Characters: I recently read a manuscript written by a seat-of-the-pants writer. I could tell that halfway through she changed her mind as to who the hero would be. We were being led in one direction, and then, all of a sudden, the guy we we were rooting for was revealed as the scoundrel. When I questioned the author about it, she admitted that she decided to change her character mid-manuscript. She didn’t realize that she was a strong enough writer that we liked him when she liked him in those early chapters, even if she changed her mind later.
Foreshadowing: The reader loves to have hints about what is to come, and a skilled writer pays attention to how these are woven in from page one. The seat-of-the-pants writer has to do this after the fact. This is especially important in writing suspense. The reader needs to suspect trouble long before the character does. This takes a deft hand and some skillful planning.
Placement of Key Information: Like foreshadowing, the writer needs to know when to offer information and when to hold it back. That’s how we create mystery. That’s how we drop in a red herring to send the reader off in a different direction. The skillful writer carefully manipulates these nuggets for the ultimate effect.
I know it’s fun to talk about a character coming onstage and stealing the whole book or to tell readers you have no idea what the characters are going to do until you follow them around, but I felt I needed to make the case for the carefully planned book–the finely crafted book.
Agree? Disagree? As I was telling one of my clients, I look forward to the discussion here because I’m often given a powerful argument for the other side. Yes, I learn as much from you as you do from me. I’m going to be out of the office until late afternoon so I may be late to the party, but I look forward to hearing what you think.
TWEETABLES:
Creating the finely crafted novel. Tough for the seat-of-the-pants writer. Click to Tweet
Pantser? Plotter? This lit agent makes the case for careful planning. Click to Tweet
peter
I am inclined to both. I have a clear picture of where I am going with a book and how I want to build it etc., but well, using the analogy of building a house, the foundation and framework are actually “relatively” quick to complete in the context of the overall project. Its the finishing that takes time. How to flesh it out, ensure a proper flow, etc. I actually have often shifted things around, despite what I planned, because as the book evolves it acquires a life of its own. Over-planning can remove the sense of being immersed inside the story, which would bore me and would certainly not have left me with the tears I shed over what my characters faced, etc. To me, there is a fine balance to be struck between structure and creative passion. That is true of life. Its left and right brain stuff.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Left brain, right brain…yeah, exactly! If I’d waited to see your comment, Pete, I could have saved a LOT of metaphorical ink (see below).
* But what about those of us who truly lived the 60s, and whose brain cells are still somewhere back there, listening to Sgt. Pepper’s band..?
Wendy Lawton
And this is what a planner does. The book is plotted but the magic happens in the writing.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Interesting topic, and very deep, really. It harks back to the development of Mannerism in painting, and the later tensions between the academic painters and the en plein air artists (for that is how we see them) of the Impressionist school.
* The Mannerists were most clearly defined by some of the painters of the later period of the Italian High Renaissance, from 1520 to about 1580 (Bronzino and El Greco being among the best-known exponents).
* Mannerism was characterized by a studied imbalance and disharmony, and were are reaction to the Classical doctrine that had previously held sway. Mannerists came at their art through an intellectual approach, carefully building in elements that created dynamic tension. They deliberately stepped away from the ideal of harmony that was a hallmark of the High Renaissance (da Vinci and Raphael, for example).
* Mannerism was eventually subsumed into the baroque; its florid artifice formed the background for a cultural paradigm that encompassed art, music, architecture, and literature. The unifying element was, I think, control; the artist as creator of, rather than witness to reality.
* Fast forward a couple of centuries through the solidification of the baroque ideal, to the realism that dominated academic (as in Royal Academy) art through the 18th and most of the 19th centuries. Academic art was very formulaic, and lent itself to the spread of ateliers, in which apprentices could lay the groundwork for the mater’s finishing touches. Nothing wrong with that except…
* …eventually it got BO-RRRINGGG!
* And thus (abbreviating the timeline) rose Manet, the proto-impressionist, and the paragons of the Impressionist paradigm – Monet and Renoir. They began as academic painters, but found the strictures stultifying, and chose to ‘leave the studio’, and paint that which they ‘saw’, rather than that which they knew was there. The Impressionists claimed to paint Light, rather than substance; the impression that reflected light made on the eye.
* The contention that they painted en plein air is largely a myth; certainly the masterworks of the major Impressionists were begun that way, but they were completed in the studio, calling on memory and knowledge of the craft of painting to create the finished product they wanted. Not the true representation of nature, to be sure; rather, the representation of what they wanted nature to be. Thus Monet’s many series; he was bent on capturing,on canvas and in his heart the essence of the haystack, the soul of the poplars (which he bought, by the way, to prevent their being cut down).
* To accomplish this, the Impressionists had to be masters of their craft; we have the image of their working quickly, slapping paint to canvas, and nothing could be further from the truth. Each stroke was measured and deliberate, laid on with speed, perhaps, but it was the speed born of expertise. Monet typically worked on the initial composition only when the light was right, and carried several canvases with him to address sequentially as the light changed (witness his series of paintings of the facade of Rouen Cathedral).
* The Impressionists did work to perpetuate the en plein air myth; it became an ethos they eventually could not escape, and led to a perceived artistic dead end; hence Post-Impressionism and dominance of the artist’s mental landscape (Gaugin), and the technical approach of the Pointillists (Signac). But I digress…I do that a lot, eh?
* And how does this connect to writing?
* I am no expert; I did study narrative prose for seven years with Marvin Mudrick, but am certainly no expert. But here are some thoughts, for that which they may be worth…
* The careful plotting of books seems to me to connect directly to the Mannerist approach, building a carefully disharmonious literary and ‘story arc’ structure to create the dynamic tension by which the story is pulled forward, and coincidentally by which the reader – some species of readers, maybe – is drawn into the tale, and into the lives of the characters.
* Susan Howatch’s early works (such as her iconic diptych, “The Wheel of Fortune”) follow this path. They are painstakingly laid out, and she skilfully conceals the inevitable fates of her characters which become obvious only in retrospect. Tom Clancy follows the same path, though with less structured elegance; and one may as well add Herman Wouk, Robert Ruark, and James Michener’s later books.
* In the other corner one finds…well, not many greats. Nevil Shute (so dear to my heart) wrote quickly, and the novels he produced during WW2 have a somewhat unsophisticated charm that for all their flaws in pacing and arc do draw in many readers (I’m thinking of “Pastoral”, possibly the best 20th century romance ever written).
* Richard Bach is another example, in his aviation trilogy (“Stranger to the Ground”, “Biplane”, and “Nothing by Chance”, and, of course, “Illusions”). In the aviation field one could also add the lyrical memoirs of P.G. (Sir Gordon) Taylor.
* It’s important to realize that these chaps didn’t down tools at the end of the first draft and shout, “Voila! Masterpiece!” They worked very hard on their craft, and their work shows evidence of painstaking rewrites, but those rewrites were done with an eye and hand respectful of the original intent…just as Monet worked, when he brought his ‘children’ back to the studio.
* The ‘seat of the pants’ writers certainly do lose out in plotting, pace, and sometimes character development, but they retain a freshness that is easily lost in writers applying a more sophisticated technique.
* In the end, I suppose it’s really a matter of the readers’ choice; is one counted among those who want to be in the writer’s head, or see with the eyes of the writer’s heart? That doesn’t imply a value judgement; people are different, and their takeaways – from the same book – can be diametrically opposed.
* To end with a serving of corn…”Vive la difference!”
peter missing
You was busy. But yeah its so. Even poetry abandoned rhyme or meter and become more impressionist. Music and dance have solid foundations that are deeply entrenched for students but the likes of Bob Dylan cried all the way to the bank. I really believe in balance maybe because my left and right brains are pretty active.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Dylan was impressionistic, but also a dedicated craftsman; it’s easy to miss that in Beat Generation writers, poets, and musicians.
* While I’m not a fan of Ginsburg’s “Howl”, his image of ‘wartime blue floodlights’ has haunted me from the first reading. It’s a beautifully-crafted phrase, both in context and alone.
Wendy Lawton
Interesting comparison. (And practically novel-length.) 😉
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Yeah, well…I’m enthusiastic about the subject…and it’s something to which I have given a lot of thought over the past few years.
Carolyn Astfalk
I don’t think being a “pantser” and careful consideration of the list above is mutually exclusive. I struggle with methodical planning of writing. For me, its seems more an instinctual act. Of course, my instincts improve as I learn about the craft, and I do jot ideas before I begin to write, but dissecting ideas does not come easily or naturally to me, and I find it inhibits my ability to craft a story.
If someone can read my book and point out “punster-created deficiencies,” I’d love to hear their comments.
Carolyn Astfalk
Uh, “pantster,” not “punster.” And I meant that last sentence sincerely, not as a small-aleck kind of challenge. That didn’t come across in print.
Wendy Lawton
We never thought it was meant as a smart aleck remark. I hope all of our writers have the kind of first reader/ mentor who can point out deficiencies. It’s the best secret weapon we can have.
Wendy Lawton
No. You are right. They are not mutually exclusive but I’m guessing it takes much longer to get to the finely crafted stage than doing advance planning. (I could be wrong, though. . .)
Kristen Joy Wilks
I used to be a pantser. I’d write when I was swept away by the words. Which works fine for fun short stories but when I set out to write a novel length ms. those first 3 chapters that I wrote as a pantser were my nemesis as I revised. I have added more and more structure to my writing process the longer I write and I enjoy plotting. But my sister literally can’t write anything down if she has to plot it out. She stares at the screen and the words become stilted and stiff. But if she mulls things over for awhile and then just writes, her stories are great and they do have a plot and character arc, she instinctively puts that in. It is weird to me, since I did not have success writing this way, but it seems to work for her. I think that many many writers would do better if they learned a few basic plotting skills, like I did. But there are writers who clam up when faced with that task. Hopefully they are blessed, like my sister, with an instinctive sense of structure. If not, I have no idea what they should do.
Hannah Vanderpool
I am like your sister! So much of what I write is jammed in my brain and cannot–CANNOT–come out unless I actually write. This means that there’s stuff I have to edit out, stuff I have to layer with more meaning, times I have to go back and change things, etc. But I just cannot write any other way. I feel like, because I read widely and all the time, I have grasped what needs to happen in my stories, at least to some degree. I would like to be the other kind of writer, honestly. But, again, I say: I can’t. At least not at the present time.
Jackie Lea Sommers
Ditto this, Hannah!
So much of my plot COMES ABOUT through pantsing!
Wendy Lawton
So this is how you create the raw material and then you pummel it into shape later?
It sounds like it works, as long as you subject it to the “pummel” stage. I guess I see too many manuscripts that haven’t gone through that crafting.
Wendy Lawton
So you are saying there are two kinds of writers. . .
I do believe some have an instinctive sense of structure. It comes from reading, reading, reading.
Jeanne Takenaka
By nature I am an organizer, a planner. I like to know where I’m going, and that includes in writing. What I’m finding is that, within the overall structure of the story, there’s room for “pantsing,” so to speak. I know my characters well, I know the important scenes in the book, but I can free flow within the scenes, and to a degree, between the scenes. I admit, for the most part, I have a good idea of what’s going to happen in my story before I ever write a word.
I’ve heard published authors,who used to be pantsers say, that after they got a contract, and had to work on deadline, they found plotting to be to ease the stress that comes with deadlines.
Wendy Lawton
Exactly, Jeanne! I think you described what a plotter does. She plans things out, tentatively decides on certain icons, foreshadowing techniques, etc., but once she gets into the writing it all comes alive, just as for the seat-of-the-pants writer.
Richard Mabry
Wendy, I’ve always proudly proclaimed that I’m a “seat of the pants” writer, but the more I craft novels, the more I realize that–although I don’t plot out everything from the beginning–I always know how the book is going to start, what the mid-point crisis that prevents a sagging middle will be, and the manner in which the book will end. As for good guy-bad guy, I write thrillers/suspense/mystery (let’s don’t get into those definitions), and I always leave myself an out, not deciding on the villain until close to the end of the book. I’ll respectfully disagree with your comment on this–sometimes authors kill off the good guys, sometimes they turn out bad. That works in some genres, not in others. As always, thanks for sharing.
Jenni Brummett
Richard, I’m intrigued by how you don’t decide on the villain until close to the end of the book.
Wendy Lawton
Interesting Richard. I’m going to need to pick up one of your books and see if I can sense this.
But from the outset you do know what the hero wants more than anything and what his growth arc will look like, right? That’s what planning is all about.
Shelli Littleton
I’m much like Jeanne. I like to plot my story before starting. I pour my heart out over the direction …. I like to have a plan and purpose, or I’m afraid I would wander and ramble. But I seek that plan and purpose with my whole heart. Tears and smiles often cover that plan and purpose. And then I fly a bit by the seat of my plotted pants through each chapter in getting to my goal. You can have the best of both worlds! 🙂
But I’d never say there is a right and a wrong. Though I could never claim to be an expert at this point, it seems both writer types pour their hearts out on the page, maybe just different levels at different stages.
**And my heart does take sheer delight in the connections that just seem to magically-pantster occur … I didn’t plan it … I could have never thought it … and like Beth Moore, I thank the good Lord for helping me, at times, appear smarter than I am. 🙂 “Did you throw that in there? You threw that in there, didn’t you?” 🙂
Wendy L Macdonald
Shelli, I’m hoping for one of those “Did you throw that in there?” moments in my WIP. It happened to me with my first project, and I was so excited I cut my shower short. And we all know some of our best writing happens in the shower–right? I admire how you instinctively plot while allowing room for creativity.
Merran Jones
Yes! Showering. Absolutely. I can’t count the number of times I’ve dashed naked from the bathroom to my laptop, dripping water all over the floor.
Wendy Lawton
Yes! You described what I meant when I talked about a plotter. Just because we plot doesn’t mean we slavishly stick to every jot and tittle of the plan.
And I’m like you. I recognize the Divine in our work. I’ve reread one of my books and found myself saying, “How interesting. I didn’t know that.”
Lenore Buth
Wendy, I know what you mean. Years ago, when I wrote the initial parents’ book for a sex education series, I prayed and struggled for days on how to give examples for parents of explaining the sexual relationship between husband and wife. I started and stopped a hundred times. Then one night I awoke and what I needed was “there.” I stole into my office and typed it out. Next morning I read it again and never changed a word.
Interestingly, although I’ve revised that book extensively several times for subsequent new editions, I’ve made few, if any changes to those pages. That never happened again, but I knew then, as I know now, our Helper has a hand in our work.
James Scott Bell
A pure pantser knows (or will soon find out) that the first draft is in reality a mass of unformed clay, that will eventually need to be shaped. For them, it’s a matter of letting the best story material out, though I happen to think that a pantser who gets over structure anxiety and learns to write from “signpost to signpost” will be a happier and more productive pantser in the long run.
Thus, I am an advocate for long pants.
Angela Mills
Long pants, ha!
I consider myself a pantser, but I do plan out how many chapters and how long they’ll be and where that doorway of no return should take place. I don’t know what it will be yet, but I know when it’s happening. So I guess I’m not a pure pantser 🙂
Wendy Lawton
Perfect illustration. Clay.
And one of the best tools to help get over structure anxiety is James Scott Bell’s excellent book, PLOT & STRUCTURE. I’ve got my dog-eared copy right here in my office.
James Scott Bell
High praise indeed, Wendy. Thank you.
Sarah Thomas
I’m much like Richard above–a pantser with a framework. My “outline” is a handful of paragraphs with a few bullet points of things I want to include . . . somewhere. There are key landmarks I’m writing toward and I have a vague notion of where I want to end up. I simply CAN’T do a detailed outline, if I do, then I’ve already told the story and the passion evaporates. On the other hand, I’d have an equally hard time writing a story with NO direction in mind. The key for me is to have a few boundaries in the form of things like theme, overall message, and target audience. Then I let the characters tell ME the story–which is why it’s fun! Maybe we need a new category–plantsing.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Pfantsing: A word in Old German for “Sarah Thomas could pfants the pants off anyone within ten strudle lengths. “
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
I clearly did NOT nail that one.
Chalk one up for not seeing the L…
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Missing an L is no disaster…just think of the modified version of The First Noel –
When they tore down the EL
The Mayor did say
That soon in its place
there would be a subway!
T’would be bright, t’would be clean,
t;would be painted white and green,
so three-e-e cheers for our bright new subway!
No EL, no EL,
no EL, no EL,
so thee-e-e cheers
for our bright new subway!
Carolyn Astfalk
Yes – that about describes my process. I’m not typing random words on the screen, but I’m also not writing an outline with plot points, pinch points, and whatever else needs to be there.
Wendy Lawton
I often jokingly say if you want a job done in the most efficient way you give it to the laziest person. I can’t imagine how one would begin to pull all those scenes, character sketches, writing together at the end. There must be tons TONS of rewriting to get it into that “finely crafted” shape.
Wendy Lawton
that works– plantsing.
But what does one do when proposing a book to your editor, where you need a semi-detailed synopsis?
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
The example you gave in Continuity of Characters is interesting; in thinking about it, I wondered why the initially loathsome Sidney Carton could be someone we’d come to respect, if not like (well, I like him), while seeing Charles Darnay revealed as a cad and bounder would be unacceptable. Why is the upward arc palatable, while the descending arc is not?
* I’m not sure what I am, in terms of building an infrastructure – I storyboard my work, thinking of it first visually.
– First there’s an ‘epic’ storyboard that covers the whole thing – kind of like a mural in sketch form.
– That’s broken down into smaller but still wide-angle storyboards representing chapters, strung together like a triptych behind an altar.
– And then there are sketches for the individual scenes.
* I don’t think I could write any other way; the fact that I’ve been hit in the head and concussed many times may have something to do with it (I’m not kidding), since preparing anything like a manual or descriptive sequence of steps gets confusing and frustrating.
* That methodology might also tie in with a propensity toward minimalist description; my writing is slanted toward action and dialogue; only rarely will a character have eyes as green as the ink used on US currency.
* And yes, I storyboarded the unwieldy comment I made above. Writing that in one go would have made a mess of my remaining brain cells.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Sorry, that should have been “remaining brain cell”. I had far too much fun as a lad.
Wendy Lawton
Storyboarding is definitely planning. I love the visual aspect.
Jennifer Zarifeh Major
Basically, everything Sarah said.
I do need direction, I simply MUST have a semi-clear outline, but I also need room for spontaneous character behaviour.
I do have an character outline, but I realized a few days ago that I have a hard time keeping track of how many retired Mexican army officers I have in the last few chapters of Book Uno.
Which, of course, is a common problem in pantsing. The counting of caballeros.
I bet pure plotters don’t have that problem.
Wendy Lawton
There’s always room for spontaneous– plotting only enhances that and makes sure it is still going in the right direction. If by spontaneous you mean that halfway through everything changes, that can happen too. It’s just a new book at that time and, hopefully, you have that kind of time in your deadline.
Shirlee Abbott
Methinks this is the intersection between Luke 14:28 (sit down and count the cost) and 1 Thessalonians 5:19 (do not quench the Spirit).
Shelli Littleton
Love that, Shirlee … 🙂
peter
well said Shirlee
Jenni Brummett
Yes!
Wendy Lawton
Brilliant, Shirlee!
Wendy L Macdonald
Wendy, I think your points on why to plot are powerfully persuasive. I wrote my first two manuscripts with a few signposts in mind, while pantsering in between. My second one had more planning than the first and I found it easier to write because of the map (also since I knew my characters already). I’m at the midpoint of my 3rd MS and I found James Scott Bell’s book, ‘Write Your Novel From the Middle’ really helpful since I was able to avoid a saggy middle due to the advice in his book. But I’m still a part pantser in that I like to leave options as to who the guilty person is until about 3/4’s of the way through the first draft. I’ve heard successful author’s say if they know ‘who dunnit’ too soon,the reader will too (the uncertainty keeps me excited about my story).
In the meantime I’ve been writing my chapter by chapter synopsis as I create so it’s easier to find where I need to go back and adjust clues & red herrings etc. according to who the culprit turns out to be. I’m pretty sure I know who did it and why, but I’m leaving room for plausible plot twists ( I love them).
Meanwhile, on the side, I’ve been writing an outline for a separate mystery/romance to test out plotting and see how it works for me. Never say never. 😉
Blessings ~ Wendy Mac
James Scott Bell
Wendy, first of all, thanks for the kind words about the Middle book. The rest of your comment reminded me of a conversation I had recently with a friend, Thomas Sawyer, who was head writer on Murder, She Wrote. He told me is “formula” was to set up a group of suspects, a la The Maltese Falcon, and sometimes he’d have the killer in mind, other times not, but always he’d be ready to switch by the time he got to the end. I think Erle Stanley Gardner was the same way. Agatha Christie, too, even as meticulously as she plotted.
You’re in good company.
Wendy L Macdonald
Thank you, Jim, for your encouraging words. I enjoy setting up a group of suspects. Nice to know I’m in ‘good company’. I needed to hear this as I’m presently tempted to switch who the villain is in my WIP (evil grin & laughter). By the way, I’ve gleaned lots of wisdom from your Kill Zone posts. New writers, like me, appreciate what successful authors (and agents) share on the web.
Jenni Brummett
Reading Plot & Structure for the third time at present. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and experience so generously with us.
Shelli Littleton
Wendy, you make me smile. 🙂 Planning the middle is a great idea.
Wendy Lawton
And I think once you are writing to tight deadlines you’ll find that your plan really helps.
Davalynn Spencer
Great discussion. I’m a planster – not a hybrid plotter/pantser, but a pantser with a plan—a map showing the destination while allowing creative license for pantsing along the way. I have also embraced the dreaded synopsis because, well, gee, I like having a bit of bone to hang all the flesh and sinew on. Nothing keeps me from scrapping or modifying that synop, and it lends a bit of security when I can see where I’m going. Reading through the comments here, it appears that most of us fall into some type of blended group. And Carolyn, I kind of like the punster idea.
Carolyn Astfalk
Hmm. . . maybe I was onto something there. 😉
Wendy Lawton
But you are not really a hybrid– you are a plotter. All plotter/planners allow for inspiration and unplanned things.
Angela Mills
I’m a pantser and this post made me wonder if I should try plotting 🙂 But I have to disagree with the foreshadowing thing. I’ve noticed that happens, even when I don’t plan it. In fact, it often ends up surprising me. It’s like my subconscious knew what was going to happen. I know that sounds kooky, but that’s how it works for me.
I like the idea of plotting, but I don’t think my brain works that way. I don’t even like filling in actual character profiles. I just free write for days and then cut and paste stuff into profile sheets. Maybe as I get more experience I’ll be able to plot better beforehand.
Carolyn Astfalk
Not kooky at all! That’s happened to me. On reread I realize – oh my gosh, that perfectly foreshadows xyz! I think the themes work their way into our subconscious. I find it one of the most fun and satisfying things about novel writing.
Wendy Lawton
Interesting. I think as you begin to “live” the story and it stays in your mind throughout the day you often begin to make those connections.
David Todd
I’m somewhere in between. When I start a novel, I usually have the climax scene in mind, sometimes even outlined on paper. And I have the beginning worked out in my mind to great degree. That gives me the character arc of the protagonist(s) and antagonist(s). I might even have critical scenes worked out along the way. Almost none of this, however, is on paper. It’s all in my mind, and may have been there for a long time, usually several months if not a couple of years. So the exact route I’m taking from beginning to end is a little bit of a mystery when I finally get to writing the book. I usually have an idea about the denouement when I begin.
I suspect that most (but certainly not all) seat-of-the-pants writers are actually somewhat like that, even if they don’t realize it. I can’t imagine sitting down to write a novel (or even a short story) without knowing points A and Z, and maybe points G, M, and S, at minimum in unarticulated thoughts that eventually make it to page or pixels.
Jenni Brummett
I relate far too much to your last sentence. Well stated.
Wendy Lawton
So your hypothesis is that we are all plotters– some conscious plotters and some unconscious plotters, right? I like that. (Not sure if it’s true but I like it.) 🙂
I think the change for most writers occurs when they are proposing their next book to the publisher based on a synopsis. The published writer no longer writes the whole book. Depending on how experienced a writer he is, he just gives anywhere from a few pages to a few paragraphs to his editor to take to editorial committee. At this point in his career a writer needs to be able to plan his book in advance.
David A. Todd
I guess that is my theory, Wendy, at least to some extent. Maybe for the panster it’s like plying chess: not quite sure how the game is going to go but thinking 5 to 10 moves ahead, and knowing how to work an end game.
Sarah Sundin
Fascinating post! As a far-end-of-the-spectrum plotter/outliner, I’ve always found the seat-of-the-pants method mystifying. But I’m also the tourist who has a careful itinerary with all reservations lined up before I leave the house 🙂
At the first writers conference I attended, Lauraine Snelling taught, “Prewrite, don’t rewrite.” Light bulb moment for me! I love my character charts and plot charts and scene summaries. While some say outlining quenches their creativity, it unleashes mine!
My newest novel, Through Waters Deep, contains a mystery plotline, the first time I’d written one. I couldn’t wrap my brain around the plot until I put together a chart. I was able to track each of my suspects and investigators, what they were doing in each scene and between scenes, and how they reacted to the other characters’ actions. That really helped me plan out my clues and red herrings, so that (I hope!) the reader will realize who the villain is just when (or right before) the heroine does.
Jenni Brummett
I knew you’d chime in at some point, Sarah. 😉 When you shared about the way you develop characters at our ACFW group, I was awed by the scope of your spreadsheets. It’s admirable and mysterious. I strive to move in your general direction with my own plotting habits.
Wendy Lawton
Kindred spirit, Sarah!
I’m still hoping to be able to drop into your launch party this weekend.
Xochi E Dixon
A reader can tell you put in the work to craft your story and bring your world to life, Sarah. I want to learn more about your writing process. I’m a total planner. I feel more creative during the brainstorming and planning time. By the time I start writing, I feel free to share my characters and their story. I need to know them before I want to invest time with them. Thanks for your encouragement. I’m looking forward to reading Through Waters Deep. 🙂
Becky Jones
I am drawn to pantsing, and I am not saying that’s good: It’s just how it works for me right now.
This said, to help rein myself in and avoid the million-draft method, I am immersing myself in craft books re: building sound structure. On my nightstand: Robert McKee’s STORY. And just finished Story Engineering by Larry Brooks. I figure, if I can grasp the anatomy of the thing, then maybe I can lean a little less guiltily my instincts.
I also do an awful lot of pre-thinking and untangling and thinking-as-the-character while blowdrying my hair or while sweating at the gym. Maybe I write a twist down; a “fix it” note for the next revision, now that I know my character much better…or realize that two supporting cast members should be collapsed into one.
So ok, maybe I plot a wee bit, too. 🙂
I
Jenni Brummett
I recently decided to collapse two story characters into one. I’m excited about the possibilities this will open up.
Wendy Lawton
😉
Becky Jones
That’s where I am too, Jenny. The collapsing might have even opened up my way of seeing the ending!
Wendy Lawton
And the good thing is, when you learn to structure and plan you don’t have to lose a bit of the seat-of-the-pants fun. That happens within the structure and it is a delight.
Andrew Man
Thanks Wendy, I think we have talked before.
I came out of intensive care and wrote my first book. Went back for more and wrote the second book in a series. Clarion hated it, Kikus was more intrigued by the mystic realism? Now I feel better, world events have became more bizarre, so completed a final book. The story is not a real ‘pantser’ because it follows actual events right upto 2015 – can you tell me what will happen in 2056, that’s being a pantser? If you are involved in your life to help others, then energy moves up to the heart.
My unconscious decides which events are important in our disconnected universe today. Readers don’t want to know about the old paradigns of religion & politics, they want to be empowered by themselves. We either write in a state of survival or we write in a state of creation? Most of your ‘planners’ are writing in a sad survival state.
Wendy Lawton
I have to disagree. I know many a planner and their books are filled with hope. I think if there’s one thing we can see from this discussion today is that art is created in any number of different ways.
Jackie Lea Sommers
I’ve gotta disagree with you on this one, Wendy! Although I pants my first draft, everything after that is revised so carefully and thoughtfully that I *think* my novels still meet the end-goals you list (my first comes out with HarperCollins four weeks from today!).
It may take longer, yes, but the truth of the matter is that if I spend time plotting (before the first draft), I can’t write it. There’s no energy in it for me. So, in that sense, it takes MORE time … because it would never get written that way.
I love the Ray Bradbury quote: “When you plot books you take all the energy and vitality out. There’s no blood.”
That said, I don’t think that being a plotter is WRONG. I just think that God has wired writers differently, and we need to respond to that!
Wendy Lawton
Congratulations on your debut! What an exciting time.
And as long as you have the time to use your creative method, it works.
But what’s going to happen when your readers start leaning on you and your publisher for more books? (See, we know you are going to be successful.) Those first pre-pub books had no hard and fast deadline but, believe me, things do change when you are writing the third book, doing promotion for the book just out, editing the second book and proposing the next three.
Jackie Lea Sommers
I’ll have to find a way. Plotting just simply doesn’t work for me. Strips the life and joy from it. And then, what is the point?
There are some very famous and successful writers who ate pantsers. They also found a way!
Carol Ashby
I’m a left-brain kind of gal, so a plot framework forms spontaneously as I think about a story. I don’t use a formal outline approach to defining a plot, but I know where I’m going from the beginning.
I write the beginning, the ending, the major crisis, and some of the intermediate crises/turning points early in the process. I then go back to the beginning and write in a more-or-less linear way to complete the story. However, anything is open to rewriting at any time during the process if a character starts growing in an unexpected way or an interesting plot twist occurs that makes an already-written portion no longer exactly what is needed. I may also skip to any place in the story if another crisis/confrontation pops into my mind as a logical consequence of what I’m writing at the moment. Then, too, sometimes I just wake up knowing a very particular thing has to be added at a particular point. (I know we’re not supposed to say “God wrote this,” but we all know what really happens sometimes.) I also do a lot of intermediate rereading of what I’ve written to make sure there are no inconsistencies and to add foreshadowing details right after completing a later scene. I finish with search-function crosschecks to remove any minor inconsistencies that may have crept in.
Even for a natural-born plotter, I would recommend James Scott Bell’s Plot & Structure. It is crammed with examples that show what the best have done. Highly instructive and entertaining as well.
James Scott Bell
Thank you, Carol.
Wendy Lawton
Sounds like a great system, Carol. The writer just needs to leave a good margin for careful rewriting.
Norma Brumbaugh
We could say, in some sort of remote way, that this also applies to blog writing. A well-crafted blog gets to the point and gets the job done. Then there are the others, the ones that ramble and weave in and out. I’ve written both types, and I’ve learned to tighten it up to keep the reader interested. My WIP are in both groups according to my purpose although they are nonfiction writings…so I’m taking some liberty here. The ones I use to teach spiritual concepts are highly structured (plotter) and the others are more like journal writings which explore my on-going spiritual considerations (panster).
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
That’s an excellent point; I try to keep my blog posts (and comments) well-structured, while maintaining an informal tone, which isn’t always easy. Writing strictly expository paragraphs gets the point across, but it can become really tedious for the reader, in that the formality tends to hide the warmth which I want to communicate.
* But writing seat-of-the-pants on a serious subject can make the point itself hard to tease out of the mess that I tend to create when working according to that paradigm.
Wendy Lawton
Goodness! Let’s not critique blog posts, Norma. 🙂
Cynthia
Whoa, hang on there. “Pantsed” books are just as finely crafted. There are some very famous pantsers to prove that. Raymond Chandler wrote the he was, “…the kind of writer who cannot plan anything, but has to make it up as he goes along and then try to make sense out of it. If you gave me the best plot in the world all worked out I could not write it. It would be dead for me.”
Amen, brother.
The “crafting” comes after we’ve gone with that flow. In fact, for me, the flow is where the crafting begins. The story teller in us all knows what a story needs, and gradually, the characters begin to tell that story in a compelling and exciting way for that reason. I find that the more my characters speak and live the story, the more passionate the end result will be.
So the foreshadowing, the pacing, the arc, they’re all in there. Burning bright. When I outline, they die before I get the chance to light that fire. I’ve seen it every time I tried to follow someone else’s “formula.” So I quit doing that. And I’ve been far more successful–and published more often–ever since.
Once that first rush of activity ends, I go back and use some of the tools I’ve amassed over the years to prune and shape the story. I may take several drafts, but as I get older, there’s less need for that. Those processes are always there lurking, even as the story writes itself. So I know where I want to work hardest, on those second and third passes.
On occasion, I’ll do a little bullet point “outline” just to remind me where I’m going. I also write notes at the top of a page, if I get a new idea that I want to keep track of, something that I want to or need to do in that chapter or the next. But those extensive outlining methods some use…no way. I’ll never actually write the book if I do that. It dies on the operating table.
Wendy Lawton
Fair enough. If it works, it works. That’s why I like to get all these comments into the discussion.
About this great authors who were panthers– how I’d love to interview their editors. . .
Norma Brumbaugh
Point well taken. It was an incorrect statement.
Jackie Lea Sommers
Yes. This. This is me.
Robin Patchen
I couldn’t agree with you more. I feel like I can tell when a book was written by a SOTP writer. Not always, but often. It’s not that the book isn’t good, it’s that it misses so many opportunities to be great. I always have a general outline of the books I write, but I wish I were more of a planner–or perhaps just better at following my own roadmap.
Wendy Lawton
That’s what inspired me to write this blog, Robin, but you said it so much better than me. “Miss so many opportunities to be great.” Yes!
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
In aviation, flying by the seat of one’s pants (that is, according to the sense of balance one physically feels) works well in clear weather, and is vital for aerobatics. Performing a loop, for instance, you have to take the sensory inputs and use them to judge what the aeroplane is doing, and what control inputs you have to make to create the maneuver you’e intending to perform. You have to ‘listen’ to what your bum is telling you, and to the control pressures as you go ‘over the top’; get too slow and you’ll fall out of it, pull too hard and you’ll enter a high-speed stall (the wings will stop generating lift) and most likely do an unintended half-snap-roll, which is embarrassing.
* But those senses have to be informed by your vision of the world; in a turn,, for instance, the aeroplane generates its own ‘local vertical’ which keeps the drink in its cup but which also tries to convince your body that you’re straight and level…when you aren’t.
* Fly by your physical senses when your view of a horizon is cut off, and you’ll soon be in more trouble than you can possibly imagine, without any clear idea of how to get out of the situation. In cloud, the only way to survive is to trust your instruments, because they’re the only true reference you have.
* That’s what killed JFK Jr., back in 1999 or thereabouts.
* Learning instrument flying, like learning plotting (if it’s not your natural style) is both challenging and tedious…and in this analogy it may be significant to the writer that it’s a skill that has to be practiced constantly to be useful. But it’s the only way to be able to get from HERE to THERE when you want to.
Wendy Lawton
Andrew, you are– hands down– the king of the perfect illustration.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Wendy, thank you…you made my day.
Sally Bradley
I’m going to agree with what it looks like many others have said, that being a pantster isn’t exactly as you’ve described it. My book Kept was pantsted (that sounds so wrong!), but before I began, I knew my hero, heroine, and villain extremely well, and I knew a handful of key scenes.
To me, it’s like taking a trip. When we visit home in Chicago from Kansas City, we know we’ll go through Liberty, MO, then Des Moines, the Quad Cities, and Dixon, Illinois. There are a lot of other cities we go through, but I can’t name them, just the bigger, more memorable ones. So before I started writing, I knew how the book opened, and I knew my hero’s & heroine’s midpoint scenes (although I didn’t realize at the time that those scenes were the midpoint). I knew something big that would happen between my two characters that would change everything and I knew what disaster would come in to force my character into her black moment.
I did not, though, have any idea typically of what would happen next, weird as that sounds. The farther the book went on, the more I found myself finishing a scene and thinking, “What happens next?” I’ve been told by lots of readers that it’s a page turner, and ironically that second half where I didn’t have a clue what was coming next is the fastest part of the book. I didn’t even know exactly how the book was going to end until I wrote it! I knew the concept of what would happen, but what that would actually look like, what the bad guy would do… no idea. I think at some point our knowledge of story and structure comes into play, and we intuitively know what type of thing has to come next. And we make it so. 🙂
I think there are just different types of writers, pantsters, plotters, hybrids. And in all of that I doubt there are any true pantsters who have no idea about anything before they start writing. Anyone who does that I would say is probably a hobby writer who’s early in their writing life, because you learn pretty quickly that you just can’t go into a story blind.
Wendy Lawton
So you are saying that there are not just two kinds of writers– plotters and pantsers. You are saying there are an infinite number of variations– probably as many as there are writers.
Yep. I think you are spot on. (But it was fun to take the two polar opposites to ignite a great discussion, right?)
Sally Bradley
LOL, Wendy, you did ignite a great discussion!
Maria A. Karamitsos
Great discussion, Wendy! Thanks! You got me thinking this morning!
Janet Ann Collins
I call myself a framer. I need to have a general framework for where a story is going, but when I tried planning a story out in too much detail I got bored with it before I actually started writing and never did write the book.
Maria A. Karamitsos
Janet, I like this, “Framer.” I think that’s a good description of how I like to write. I have a framework, but try to stay open to where the story goes. Once, in writing a non-fiction book, I created an outline and tried to stick to it, no matter what. What I found as I wrote, was that I was missing key elements, or things I thought important, were insignificant or didn’t warrant an entire chapter. I ended up continually changing the outline to keep it straight, and I drove myself crazy. I’m sorry you got discouraged and hope you will write that book!
Janet Ann Collins
Thanks, Maria.
Teresa Haugh
I have to add my thanks to James Scott Bell for Write Your Book from the Middle. What a relief! It gave me hope that I could truly create some structure for my story without contorting my brain and very soul into creating those dreaded outlines.
James Scott Bell
So kind of you, Teresa. Glad it helped.
Maria A. Karamitsos
Having a “blueprint” so to speak is certainly helpful to keep one organized and on track. I do feel that sometimes the characters do take on their “own lives” and the story can go in a different direction that imagined. I don’t believe this is ever a mistake. It can help flesh out the character and the story, or even add dimension. It can bring inspiration. It may make more work in the end, but when the story takes off, I don’t think we should stop the creative flow. That portion of writing may be scrapped later in edit, but it might not. I think we need to start with a plan and be open. Because sometimes the most wonderful things in life happen outside the plan. We are all different, and different styles and approaches abound. Do what works best for you! Happy writing all!
Wendy Lawton
I think you’ve summed it up. Different styles, different approaches. And the thing is, writers may have to change their approach as their career matures. Thanks, Maria.
Katherine Traylor
Both planning and free-writing are important to me. After trying MANY different systems, I finally found that the best for me was to let the story develop fully without any plans, and then take a step back, lay out the main plot points, make character and setting sheets, and then rewrite the entire thing from the beginning with special attention to character motivations and sensory details. It takes FOREVER, and requires about eight drafts, but when I write any other way I come back to it feeling that I haven’t quite said what I wanted to say. Seat-of-the-pants writing is too incoherent for me, and writing from an outline is too stifling; I must have both.
Thanks for the post–I love your blog. : )
Wendy Lawton
Sounds like you found something that works. The challenge for you is when you are published and your publisher wants one book a year (and your readers still think that is not enough). How do you develop a system that allows for creativity but doesn’t take forever?
Katherine Traylor
I usually have several things in the works at the same time. Right now I’m almost done rewriting what I hope will be my first published novel (I have friends reading each chapter as they come out, and they give excellent feedback). I’m also working on the planned drafts of another novel and a novella (I thought it would be a short story when I first developed the plot, but the planned draft is adding so much detail and complexity that it’s telescoped and become a back-burner project), and I’m free-plotting a short (hopefully for submission) and a massive novel I may not end up focusing on for years. I just finished a short (again, with lovely friends reading and giving great feedback), and plan to submit it after a last polish.
I’ve discovered that I can do my “exploratory draft” in my head while I’m walking or doing chores, and that cuts down a lot on composition time. As I write more, I’m becoming better able to gauge how long projects will take and schedule them accordingly. I’m hoping eventually to be able to layer things so that I can finish projects fairly regularly.
Thanks for the response. : )
Xochi E Dixon
I’m a planner, a brainstorming fool who knows the beginning, middle and end before I can start writing a story. I spend time crafting my characters, developing back story that may never be read by anyone else. But, knowing that back story helps me craft scenes through which character can be revealed. Even dialogue has to be reflective of each character and purposed to move the story forward. So, I actually create a voice for each character before I can care about them enough to write their story. Sometimes, I go through this process out loud. My non-writing family members are used to hearing me talk to myself. It took them awhile to get used to me using different voices when reading dialogue out loud, but they ignore me now. As a writer, I feel it’s my responsibility to be in control of the story God places on my heart. I spend so much time taking notes before I write, the story feels like it flows when I begin the writing process. It’s worth investing time to plan. As a reader, I appreciate a well-crafted story. As a writer, I invest in planning. Even my twists are carefully plotted in advance. My synopsis can remain flexible, but those changes are usually handled in advance, too. I like to write my synopsis and book blurb before I start a story. When we know where we’re leading our readers, the story and the characters won’the feel forced.
Xochi E Dixon
That last line should read: When we know where we’re leading our readers, the story and the characters won’t feel forced. I couldn’t scroll up to edit on my phone. Sorry. I didn’t plan that error. 🙂
Wendy Lawton
Good insight, Xochi.
Peter DeHaan
Writers need to figure out which one works best for him and then use that method, aware of the ramifications. I plan my writing but love it when a surprise reveals itself. Though I think my way is better, I’d never tell pansters to change – it could ruin their writing and rob their joy.
Jeanette
Thank you Wendy for this blog. I am new at writing with the idea of publishing. I have found so many wonderful ideas in sitting down, writing my thoughts and waiting later for the right time to add them to a story. Did you know that Natalie Grant wrote the start of her song hurricane on the side of the road on her way to the grocery store? I have learned inspiration comes at the spur of a moment sometimes. I never want to miss it. I love that there are so many resources to plan and agree that in a mystery or historical it is wise to research the information ahead of time for a first time writer it really could make the difference between a story being believable, acccurate and in some cases whether it will plan out right. I do like to see where a story will take me when I have an idea and know how I want to end it. I do think for me there are things that come up that make it inspired in areas that I would not have planned by writing rather than planning all the details. I am always willing to learn though.
Jessica Berg
I am definitely a “pantser”. I’ve tried to outline my story, but I just sit there and stare at my screen, cursor blinking at me stupidly. Oftentimes, my final draft is nothing like my first draft…
On my next book, I shall try a little harder to outline…maybe:)
Brent
I agree with you, Wendy. Years ago I had the idea I could just sit down and write, and make it all come out. I wound up with very cool ideas in early chapters that didn’t match were I decided to go later, including dialogue about them. I wound up with branches of plot stuck in dead ends. Characters got thrown in and discarded on a whim, because ALL of the writing was whim.
Now I regard that as just being the naive arrogance of a beginning writer. I’m not applying that to everyone, but it applied to me. Even the technical elements of my writing improved after I started writing chapter summaries. When I had no plan, I think I felt the need to sell my story with every new sentence, because I didn’t know what was to come. That put too much pressure on what I was writing all the time. Now I know that I don’t have to sell the reader with each sentence. I just need to set them up for the real payoffs, and unlike in my early days, I know where those payoffs are going to come.
I’d love to know which side of this my favorite authors were … many of them, sadly, no longer with us.