From Pantser to Planner

“Are you a planner or a pantser?” This is a frequently asked question in the writing world. On the surface, it’s a simple matter of inquiring whether you create a detailed plan before you write or you throw caution to the muse and fly by the seat of your pants.

Naturally, once the process is proclaimed, the writer develops a need to defend it with unwavering loyalty. The level of passion and conviction generated can often rival other critical life choices, like which way the toilet paper should flow from the roll or where one stands on the use of the Oxford comma.

For the majority of my writing life, I have been a pantser. I was convinced that if I did too much planning, my writing would seem contrived and formulaic rather than natural and authentic. Once declared, I defended the pantser nation. A detailed plan was not art; it was engineering!

Of course, there was a madness to my method. A completed manuscript began the process of months (even years!) of rereading and rewriting. I had to create structure, find the emotional thread, and make the plot more cohesive. And then there was cutting, cutting, and more cutting. I cut scenes, purposeless conversations, and even unnecessary characters.

And then I signed on to this writing-for-hire job that came with a lot of requirements. The publisher provided the genre and setting. Everything else was up to me. However, they demanded a full synopsis and detailed chapter summaries before I could actually start writing.

What?! How dare they thwart my creativity. Could I possibly sacrifice my writing process and follow these unreasonable specifications just to get published and paid? The answer is yes, I could. And I did.

There was a lot of work to do up front. Every character needed to be developed and every plot point established before the writing could begin. The editor provided feedback. The plan was revised. It all seemed so sterile, so tedious, so antithetical to true creativity.

But, guess what? Once that synopsis and those chapter summaries were approved, I sat down to actually write, and that writing flew! I knew the story, and it poured forth. Not only that, having a highly detailed plan did not thwart my creativity. It actually freed my mind to concentrate on craft. At that point, writing was a lot less work and a lot more fun!

Of course, once I completed the first draft of the manuscript, I prepared for my usual marathon of rewriting and reshaping. But instead of a marathon, it was more like a 5K. I wasn’t cutting unnecessary scenes and characters; that had been done up front. I wasn’t finding the emotional thread; it was already woven into the narrative.

Being forced to become a planner provided me with a great lesson. I do not have to throw my loyalty to a particular process. Setting aside faulty assumptions and working outside my comfort zone is good for me and for my work.

So, here’s my advice to you, dear writer. There is no reason to fear the process that seems foreign. Take a step back from your creative allegiances. Be open, and try something different. Remember, it’s when you get outside your comfort zone that growth happens.