The No-Pants Dance

 

Hopefully you weren’t expecting anything too sexy with that title. Unless your idea of sexiness includes a lot of text. This post is all about Pantsing vs. Plotting.

When I first started writing, I was what was referred to as a “Pantser”.

If you’re unfamiliar with terminology from the writing community, that refers to when a writer takes an unorganized approach to drafting their stories where they “write by the seat of their pants”. They have an idea and flesh it out as they go along, caught up in the storm of their imagination.

This was a fun approach for me as a preteen. I had endless freedom and could explore a story naturally. Not that I was writing great epics back then. Mostly they were fun little short stories, or stories that started, rambled on, and never had an ending.

That didn’t bother me until my late teens, when I realized I was never going to finish anything beyond a short story if I didn’t get myself more organized. Not only that, but stories that rambled on didn’t have properly organized character arcs, or poignant reveals, or a proper climax with a satisfying resolution. They were a mess. And worse: they never felt like they were going to end.

As I’ve matured, I’ve come to learn that while I am a creative person, I am also highly organized and prefer structure and routine. There is a stereotype that writers (or creative types in general) are Mad Hatters of their respective crafts. And some are. Stephen King is arguably one of the most famous and prolific writers of all time, and he’s a renown Pantser. It just works for some people.

But not me.

Why?

I need a proper roadmap to help me see my story’s journey. Sure, I get a rough idea in my head of what I want to happen. But if I have character outlines and detail my novel from the inciting incident to the resolution in my trusty notebook, I have an overall tighter and more rewarding story. Not only that, my characters aren’t left meandering for the plot to find them. They’re on the path I’ve laid out for them.

Often I’m surprised by how the characters will get a life of their own and do whatever they want. I actually love that. It shows the story is coming alive. If what my characters do fit the story better, then I go with it. Things change all of the time during the creative process, so when something organically unfolds, I see where it goes. Usually, the characters moving outside of the reins of my plot is beneficial. But if it isn’t, I know how to steer them back on course.

Not only that, but I roughly know when my story will end. Stories have a beginning, middle, and end, but once you divide them further into a narrative arc, you suddenly have checkpoints. There’s Exposition, Inciting Incident, Rising Action, Crisis, Climax, Falling Action (Denouement), and then Resolution. If I track my story’s progress, I can stay focused on working towards the ending. It’s not some bumpy ride until I eventually reach the ending. An outline is what I need to finish what I start.

So, yes. I am now a proud “Plotter”.

And that’s not all.

A huge part of finishing a novel is making the time for it. That means writing with a routine. Waiting when you’re only inspired is, to me, the cringiest damn thing a “writer” can do if they want to be taken seriously. Years ago, I told a co-worker that I write pretty much every day. They were surprised. After all, there’s a lot of people out there who want to write a book but never do. To have that kind of consistency is rare.

That said, today my goal is to take less of a tunnel-vision approach to my writing. Meaning I don’t have to write every day in a frenzy to finish a novel so I can query a list of well-researched literary agents to achieve my dreams AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!!! anymore. My goal is to fall in love with the process again, because the other mindset is toxic and places way too much self-worth and validation from a fickle industry.

Regardless, my writing routine will still be consistent. In order for me to work healthily toward my goals, I use a day planner. I use the same one for writing down my appointments, shift schedules, and workouts. With the addition of my writing time slots, I have everything in one spot for me to have handy. Because I need that. Like the character and plot outlines, it helps me have focus on my goals and dreams. More importantly, it helps me have balance.

I can finish a book. I’ve done it a couple of times before. But I need to do it in a way that’s sustainable for my mental and physical health. Juggling my physical fitness, writing, and time for those important to me is what matters most. I know I can achieve whatever I set my mind to. For me, it’s a matter of quite literally plotting the course.

Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: The jeans aren’t mine. The picture of them isn’t mine. But they sure are nice, aren’t they?

Writing Rejections and Self-Doubt

 

If you have been following my blog recently, you know that I’ve come off of a long stretch of not writing. Frankly, of not being creative at all. The bulk of the reason is because of this right here. But now the time is to get back into doing what I love.

It’s as simple as sitting in a chair and getting right down to it.

But it’s not that easy.

I don’t have the ever-nebulous writer’s block.

I actually have something relatively new to me: self-doubt.

I used to be able to sit down and write without worrying about the odds of my work finding a home. Translation: Of getting a literary agent and also getting traditionally published. I’ve always known the traditional publishing industry is a fickle one, and like any other business, its goal is to make money. A writer can write something amazing, but if it’s not what’s currently hot in the market, it might be a bust. Meaning the author will have to “shelf” it and try again with a new manuscript.

Granted, I know it’s not all the market, and that some of that can be tied into my abilities as a writer. It left me wondering:

Can I understand my genre better? My audience?

How is my pacing?

How can I become better?

I’m someone who believes in consistent improvement, be it my craft or even myself as a person. No one is perfect, after all. I firmly believe that doing anything without a sense of humility is setting yourself up for failure. The kind of failure that makes it impossible to learn from. (Not only that, but it generally makes you insufferable, too.) I mean, we all fail at some point. We’re human. But we should take something from it so we don’t make the same mistakes.

I’m naturally gifted with words. Because of it, I’m generally quite confident in my abilities. However, when I joined a writing workshop, weaknesses in my prose were revealed to me. Sometimes criticism is a hard pill to swallow, but I took my medicine. I became a better writer from it, and I recommend anyone to step outside of their comfort zone and partake in one. So I fixed what I could, but it left me with even more questions.

How many more mistakes am I making?

Am I too inside my own head?

… Or am I just not good enough?

Introspection is a blessing and a curse. I’m fairly self-aware, especially of my own overthinking. When I can separate my feelings from what’s objectively going on, I can better put my dream of getting traditionally published into perspective.

I’ve written and queried two novels. Both got full requests, but no offers from literary agents. An exceptionally rare few writers luck out and land an agent on their first book. A few land on their second book. But, if my time on social media has taught me anything, is that it can take multiple manuscripts and several years to land an agent. And even if you get an agent, it doesn’t guarantee that your book will be published. (Behold! Another kick to the junk!)

It’s strange. A lot of people, namely folks who don’t write, think that as soon as you complete a book, it can automatically get published. The only way that’s true 100% of the time is if you choose to self-publish. Traditional publishing has gatekeepers, and sometimes gatekeeping can get to writers.

Rejections are humbling. No one likes ‘em. Still, rejections should leave you with questions if an agent or editor was kind enough to leave you with personalized feedback. (Let me tell you folks, it’s rare. When you get something that isn’t a form rejection, really consider it.) Even though writers know that rejections are all a part of the business, they still stink and can make your morale plummet. They sure did mine.

It got to a point where I felt wholeheartedly unique in my ability to suck. (I know how that sounds. I’m keeping it anyway.)

But, the thing is …

It’s not unique at all. Most writers go through it on their journey to traditional publication. And if you don’t feel that way once in a while, I envy your determination. Or pure, unadulterated hubris. (It’s one or the other in my experience. Usually a lot of the latter.)

Writing this post after being away from writing for so long, I realized something profound:

Two is a small number.

Let me be clear.

The act of finishing just one manuscript is a big frickin’ deal. Most people don’t finish what they start, especially not mentally taxing projects like novels that can take weeks, months, or years to draft. That doesn’t even factor in polishing the work so it sparkles for submission, writing query letters, writing a synopsis, or researching who or where you want to submit to.

Maybe that’s why the rejections crush the ego and sting the soul. Trying to get published is a matter of taking years of your life, working hard, and hoping it all pays off. It’s a magical alignment of talent, hard work, and luck. Now, I am not a lucky person, so I have to rely on my ability to get things done.

I’m fine with that. Even if I don’t have faith in a subjective industry, I believe in myself. I know the more I do, the better I’ll become. In becoming better, I’m becoming more critical. That in and of itself isn’t a bad thing. If anything, it’s showing my growth. It’s only bad when I over-analyze myself into inaction, letting self-doubt immobilize me. If I take my ego out of it, I’m just left with the process, and that’s how it should be. 

After all, two is a small number, and I have enough stories inside of me to last a lifetime. I better get to writing them.

Thanks for reading!