I agree that even as a “pantser” I plan to some extent. I study story structure, character archtypes, all aspects of craft. No writer should ever ignore the elements that build successful stories. I try to absorb those lessons so that they’re bone marrow of how I write. I don’t always know where I’m going as I’m working on a story. Sometimes those side trips reveal something I didn’t know, and that element, usually something character based, might just tell me how to shape the main narrative. Yes, that means I write a lot of drafts, and what some might call “wasted effort” but for me, that discovery process is essential. By the final draft they may be gone, but I couldn’t write the story I’m trying to tell without them.

I can barely manage 1 work.

This cinched it for me: “…those who write to publish, and those who write for themselves…”

I’ve written enough for myself. I’m writing to publish now.

I’ve discovered an interesting side-effect of the planning process. It’s one you don’t explicitly mention, but all writers should love it. And it’s inherent in planning your story.

I’ve started a new mystery. I’m using Scrivener, which makes the planning process very easy. (If you’re not familiar with it, this screen shot is a pretty good representation: http://www.literatureandlatte.com/screens4.html) I set up 4 sections (called, naturally, Setup, Response, Attack and Resolution) and plopped 10 ‘chapters’ in each section, 3000 words (targeted) each. I’m aiming for a finished product with 100k words. After edits. And clean ups.

In the cork board layout seen in that link, I put three or four sentences describing what had to happen in each ‘chapter’.

For the first three sections.

While I know the general resolution of the story, I honestly can’t tell how it will unfold yet. When the first draft of the first three sections is complete, I’ll be able to map the resolution.

Now here’s the beautiful, inherent side-effect.

There is NO writer’s block.

If the scene on the beach with the knife fight isn’t working, if I can’t get the flow, if I’m not sure how to weave in the anxiety felt by the hero’s girlfriend during the fight, convincingly, I can drop it for the moment and move to the next 3000 word block, the courtroom scene, where the public defender makes a mess of things and the hero’s girlfriend just barely makes it out on bail. I CAN write 3000 words about that.

And when the mood strikes and will go back to that knife fight. Maybe after watching a Jet Li movie for inspiration.

Because everything is mapped (or planned) at a marco level I have been burning through the first draft.

Bearing in mind that I have a full time job and many weekend parental responsibilities (I can’t skip all of them) I put down almost 9000 works from Friday night to Sunday night.

And some of them were good words.

No more pantsing for me. The last one I pantsed I’ve abandoned. I estimated it would take longer to fix it than it would take to write a new one. (The plots are different and the main characters are different, but some of the secondary characters are showing up.)

Thanks again, Larry. Not a life-saver, but definitely a time (and sanity) saver.

Just found your site through problogger, I’m enjoying myself already.

“work only if the pantser understands story structure to an extent that what pours out of their head aligns with those principles”

This I think is the crucial tip for getting out of the pantsing void alive and sane. I think ideas that come bubble up out of the random chaos of pantsing should ALWAYS be checked against those principles because they are a great filter for the side trip bait/spam that can come out of pantsing.

I laughed when I saw your “polarizing guy” comment. That is still very much my MO (I have post called I Hate Babies) and it is a mixed (but very interesting) bag.

Thanks for the great post

First, I read (inhaled, actually) “Whisper of the Seventh Thunder.” Really liked it, think Dan Brown better watch out…
About pants/plants/planned– it’s starting to sound like gardening! Gotta have structure, ‘nuf said.
About side trips– when writing a book and tempted to write a sidetrip, do it if you must (and if you have the time), and put it in a separate file for your own entertainment, not in the book. Keeps plot moving, and no separation anxiety over “losing” part of your manuscript.
22 drafts? That’s at least 16 more that I’d have lived through before novel went in file cabinet, not to be seen for many years…
Regards (glad you’re back!) Kelly

Even back then as a pantser, I realized none of it contributed to the story. I “got it out of my system” and proved to myself I could do it.

Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. I’m now on the path of “if it doesn’t contribute, it’s freeloading” and it’s outta there.

I appreciate the effort you put into helping people understand the cost associated with the storytelling path they choose. I started as a total pantser for all the reasons you talk about (didn’t understand the right structure, thought I could do it because some writers make it look easy, etc). I spent 4 years on my first novel, re-writing and developing my talents and understanding of this industry. Many drafts resulted. I committed to becoming a writer, and to the learning cycle of the road I’d chosen. Over time, I’ve learned the right structure, and had to throw away almost half a million words and totally re-start. The new novel is significantly better. The cost was high, but it was worth it. I’m polishing it now, and hope to submit it to agents/editors in a couple of months.

Over time, I have moved up the spectrum from pantser to planner. For my second novel, I’ll probably be 80% planner, 20% pantser. I can’t afford to take 4 years again.

I do pants as a write, and sometimes I take those side-trips. At times, they have become wonderful creative processes that have revealed previously unexplored aspects of the worlds I build. When that happens, I have to go back and re-design the story to incorporate the revelation. Again, there’s a cost. But it’s worth it sometimes. When it’s not, I delete the side-trip and continue on the original path. You’re right – there’s no other way to deal with it: either embrace it and make the necessary adjustments, or set it aside and move on.