I’ve spent a lot of time over the past year touting the wonders of a good outline.
For example:
I wrote HERE about all of the prep work my coauthor, MarcyKate Connolly, and I did before beginning to draft our shared middle-grade novel, The Thirteenth Circle, which published in January.
I wrote HERE about how the outlining I did for my upcoming middle-grade release, Mia Madison, CEO—a work-for-hire project written in collaboration with the tween-focused brand Hopscotch Girls—allowed me to finish a first draft of the second book in the series in a single month.
Plus, in many of the various interviews, school presentations, and writing workshops MarcyKate and I have done as part of our launch for The Thirteenth Circle, we’ve talked extensively about how our detailed outlining process helped us collaborate effectively.
I have been proselytizing about outlining!
Which is why it’s so funny to me that at this exact moment, I am being a total pantser.
(What does that mean? Writers like to talk about being either “plotters” or “pantsers,” i.e. people who plan everything out before diving in versus people who prefer to figure things out as they go along.)
I am working on something totally new, and I am writing it by the seat of my pants.
I shared last week that I’ve been playing around with a new book idea. It would be the first in a new series of early chapter books, each between 5-6,000 words in length.
I started writing with no master plan—just a main character, a potential sidekick, and a loose premise. Rather than come up with a whole plot beforehand, I wanted to simply put the two characters on the page and see how they interacted. Where would the two of them take the story, if it were in their hands?
I wrote one short chapter a day, making discoveries as I went along. The sidekick character changed species. (These books are about bugs.) A new, third character appeared, and the plot kicked into gear…at least two chapters too late. (I made a note to go back and speed up the pace at the beginning, once I had a full draft.) I wrote a big confrontation around the midpoint of the story. It didn’t belong there—but I liked it. Perhaps it could work as the climax. (Another note in the margins…)
And what was the main character’s motivation, anyway? What did she really, really want, and why? I tell kids at my school presentations that the “why” is your story’s most important ingredient. I realized that I was writing without a plan—I was pantsing—to find out that “why.”
I wrote to a possible ending, and then I went back to the beginning and started rearranging things, according to the notes I’d left myself. The second time through, the sequence of events made sense. But then, I got to the last chapter…and the whole thing fizzled out.
The problem? I still didn’t have a solid “why.”
I’m currently on my third trip through this short manuscript. The heart of the story and its motivation are coming into clearer focus. I feel like I started out with an idea-shaped lump of clay, and with each pass, the form of the final sculpture gets closer and closer to revealing itself. The book is telling me what it wants to be.
Once I know what the book is, I can properly dig into making it…that.
I can sharpen the characters. I can add detail and depth. I can also add more humor—I want this series to be funny, but also sweet and heartfelt. I can make the manuscript the best version of itself.
And then I can show it to someone else, to get feedback, after which I will probably have to rip it apart and rebuild it yet again.
Ah, the joys of the creative process!
Jokes aside, it’s fascinating to me how, with six (soon-to-be seven) published books under my belt—and several more manuscripts written but never published—every book’s process truly is different. Some books require tons of advance work before you can begin to write. They demand an outline. To dive in unprepared would be madness! Other books can’t be plotted until you’ve played around with the characters and the world a bit. You have to explore before you can plan.
You don’t always know which kind of book you have until you’re in it. So, you have to stay flexible. You have to be open. You have to let yourself try new tools and tactics—and you have to know when to return to your most tried-and-true strategies.
I spent a couple years in outline-world. I fell in love with beat sheets. I’m sure I’ll be back there soon, especially when I return to drafting longer novels (and/or when I have a tight deadline!).
But for the past six weeks, I’ve been writing without a plan. The book is taking shape intuitively, rather than purposefully. I’m letting my characters and my instinct guide me. It’s been a delight.
Are you more of a plotter or a pantser? Have you tried working in the opposite way? Have you found that different creative projects require different strategies?
One more thing from me:
I really, really hope I’ll get to tell you more about this project down the line, in some sort of “Hey, remember that bug-related early chapter book series I told you about in April? Guess what? It’s going to be a real book!” announcement. But of course, it may not happen. I’ve been in publishing long enough to know that not everything makes it all the way to bookshelves. Not even the things I’m most excited about! (She sighs, remembering the rhyming Halloween picture book manuscript she wrote in a joyous frenzy in the fall of 2021…)
I’m really, really enjoying writing right now—the exploration and the sense of play I’ve found with this project—and I’m trying to let that be enough. The curiosity, and the fun, and the challenge. No time spent writing—being creative—is wasted.
I hope that whatever you’re up to this month, you feel the same way.
~Kathryn
Welcome to pantsing! I actually feel the same way about each project demanding its own approach and have leaned much more plotter in recent books. Glad your writer hat is firmly back on!