Chocolate – the life saver of writers.
I’m doing my Sunday Writing Craft Post early this week because I won’t get a chance over the weekend. It’s been a mad week for me at work and it’s not over yet, as I have commitments at Conquest this weekend. For anyone who is interested, Marianne de Pierres, Trent Jamieson and Kylie Chan will be there. Here’s the programme, there’s panels and workshops. I’m doing my Pitching Workshop on the Sunday afternoon from 2-4pm.
After last week’s post on plotting Chris brought up an interesting point. He asked if writers of different genres plotted differently, for instance, were writers of hard SF more likely to be planners, than pantsers. (For those of you unfamiliar with this term a pantser is a writer who starts of with a character or a scene or an idea and let’s the story take them. They just grab ahold of that tiger’s tail and hold on).
I’ve chatted with lots of writers over the years about their style of plotting but I didn’t have a definitive answer, so I decided to survey some writing friends. I posted a list of questions asking what the genre/s they wrote, whether they were pantsers or plotters and what length they wrote (short story or novel), whether this made a difference to their style of plotting and if they changed genre did they change their plotting style.
I surveyed the Vision list and the Darkside Romance list. These authors wrote in a wide variety of genres and across the age range. So we had: children and young adult (across the genres), traditional paranormal romance (ie stand alone books where the hero and heroine end up together), dark urban fantasy, fantasy, horror, magic realism and science fiction. Some were dedicated to the novel length but most said they wrote both short and long fiction and they ranged from not published, through published in short stories, to published and also New York Times best seller authors. (Love being able to say that). Thanks to everyone who took the time to answer my survey!
I still don’t have a definitive answer to Chris’s question but I do have an insight.
When I asked writers if they were a plotter or a pantser the response was mixed, they could be both, depending on the length.
If they were a pantsers tended to say things like this writer:
‘Generally I have the feel of the story and a good sense of the world and the characters and I know how I want it to end, but exactly what the story is and how it will happen is then discovered as I write.’
I must admit, I did expect hard SF writers to be plotters yet the one writer who identified with this sub-genre of SF said:
‘I’m a plotter – but not a very thorough one. Generally, before I start writing, I’ll know what will happen to each of the main characters as the story unfolds – I tend to chart this with a rough timeline, splitting the novel into perhaps twenty ‘milestones’ with a sentence or two about who is doing what and why at each point, for each character. This is enough to get me started and generally keeps me on course to the end of the book. I also do character sketches and write a couple of pages about the ‘world’ to get me started. If the book is set in the future, I also sketch out a timeline for the various technical and social changes that have led to the ‘world’ of the book.’
So even though he didn’t plot every event, he did a lot of preparation before starting on the book because of the complexity. (Not that writing fantasy isn’t complex). Yet another SF writer said the opposite:
‘I think I’d be more inclined to pants-it on sci-fi because it seems to have more complex plotlines, and I don’t think I could imagine it all through without writing the story. Apart from that, if I was in love with a character I wouldn’t plot. I’d write her (or his) experiences to enjoy the journey and find out what happens together. Plotting first would ruin that.’
You’d think it would be simple enough to answer my questions with a yes or no, but these wonderful authors write across several genres, at different lengths, then they go and do things like experiment by plotting some books, and pansting others.
Others were wary of changing their plotting style. One author who favoured plotting felt ‘If I try to pants it, I end up in the most terrible mess.’
What was curious, was that if someone was a pantser for novels, they would often plot a short story. Or if they were a plotter for novels, they would pants a short story.
If they change their writing style from pantser to plotter for short stories it was because: ‘In short stories I tend to plot before I write — I find writing short stories is harder to be a panster, because short stories do not allow that “flexibility” to go off in to tangents. One has to maintain focus.’
Alternatively, if they were a plotter for novels and they changed for short stories, they said things like this: ‘the shorter it is the less I plot!’
If they changed their plotting style it was because: ‘The odd short story that comes to me arrives in one package, so I can plot in advance. With novels, I tend to start with a character and a situation and a general idea of the end, so I have to flimmer the first draft, at least until I have an idea what the plot is!’
Many writers said the genre didn’t influence the way they plotted but others found it did.
‘The focus of the story/the genre does dictate how one plots e.g., a romance has to be closely plotted to the developing relationship with not many tangents, whereas a fantasy50/50 allows more plot other than the “romance”.’
Or their style of plotting changed ‘because some stories need a lot of world-building and/or backstory and/or timelines, so the ‘how’ varies from something that looks like a genealogy chart to something that covers the whole table with pieces of paper and card!’
So there you have it. There is no definitive answer on plotting styles when you look at genre. There isn’t even consistency in plotting style for authors regarding the story length because they switch from pantsing to plotting or vice a versa. Which just goes to show you why trying to organise anything with creative people is like trying to herd cats!
With something as individual as writing it all seems to come down to one thing, if it works, do it.
I write hard SF. I’m totally a pantser. I lose all enthusiasm for the story if I plot, so I end up writing a different story, so I might as well not plot in the first place. I use a zero draft in which I collect anything, loose scenes, settings, infodumps with science stuff, cool facts, all in roughly the order in which I think I’m going to need them (emphasis on ‘think’). Then I go through sorting this stuff in subsequent drafts. It’s rare that I get a readable, complete draft before I hit version 4.
Patty, if I plotted, there’d be nothing left to write. It grows and I find that part fascinating.
I’m the same, if I plot, connect the dots as some people say, I get bored and go off on tangents. I always think I plot/pants like I’d sketch, with short strokes here there and everywhere that eventually make up an image.
Rita, I have a vague idea of where it can end. Often, the story goes somewhere else, but that’s enough for me to plunge in.
OTOH, pantsing can be like herding cats – in the dark! I’m a pantser by nature but I realise what a time-wasting activity it can be as it takes me ages to figure out where the thing is going, and for the first few drafts the climaxes are in the wrong places, or I have no sub plots, or the subplots take over, or I have a dozen or more POV characters…I guess that’s why I’ve been working for seven years on one trilogy without coming up with a satisfactory book one!
I know what you mean, Satima. But isn’t it interesting the way your subconscious (story fairy) guides you to write as a pantser. You know instinctively if something is or isn’t working.
I’m not sure mine does, which is why I need to keep starting again! I don’t seem to have an intuitive skill for plotting, as some pantsers do. However, I’m learning a lot as I go and I like to tell myself I’m improving!
The intuitive part comes with practice, I think, Satima.
The more you do it, the more automatic it becomes.
I’ve found that I’ve developed a sort of sixth sense that puts up a little flag that says ‘uh-oh’, and that shuts off tangents before I can go off on them.
I find that when I reach the point where I would have gone off on a tangent, I just stop writing, stick the book on my HD for a while and work on something else for a bit.
In other words: I don’t add much to a story unless I’m reasonably certain it will add to the envisaged storyline. Which is another reason that I don’t start writing until I know how it will end.
If you have an “envisaged storyline”, Patty, are you really pantsing? I start only with a character and a situation and an awareness of how the story will end. What comes in between is uncharted and unknown. I have to write the story to find out what it is, but by the end of the first draft I only have a story, not a plot. That’s when the real work starts – turning story into plot. I’m getting better at it – as Rowena says, it comes with practice! – but I don’t think I’ll ever be a real planner!
It is like a sixth sense, Patty.
I find if I get jammed up, it means something isn’t right earlier in the book. If I go back to the start, and read through I’ll find what’s wrong, write through it and pick up pace.
Satima, oh yes, I am pantsing. Because, the envisaged story line goes like this: the character will start in setting A, then something will happen and we will have a flight sequence, and then we move to setting B, where we have a couple of secondary characters being a pain, then we have a big fight and the character ends up getting the job he wants (or something). You see how it’s all window dressing and no plot?
You know, *that* infamous novel of mine? I started by scribbling down an idea of a way I might start a story, but then someone threw a bomb in through the window and I spent four drafts before I found out who did it. Oh, throughout the drafts, the novel had tension and all sorts of stuff happened, I just didn’t know why.
Rowena, exactly. That’s how I work. When I get stuck, I go back. If that gives me no ideas, I leave it until later. That is the major thing I’ve learned: to step back from something that isn’t yet working and give it time to stew.
Ah, that’s a lot more than I have to go on, Patty. I reckon you’re a half-and-halfer: half pantser, half planner! I have sometimes shelved a project for as long as 18 months while I wait for the story to catch up with me.
I’m a pantser by nature but it can be time-wasting. When I write stories with a mystery element I have to connect with my inner plotter.
LOL, Janni. I love that you have an ‘inner plotter’. They must be a cousin to my story fairy.
A bit like the elf in the story of the cobbler, who goes to bed with the shoes (story) unfinished and wakes up in the morning to find the shoes made (plot hole answer is in his head)!
Hi Rowena,
This is great! I don’t think I really knew what it was to be a pantser. Now I see I clearly fall into the category of pantser, even though I know the ending well before I begin writing.
I love that the process is so organic. And Sarah Hoyt said at Mad Genius, that she has changed her style only recently, and not even intentionally. But the lines seem blurry when some plotters pants it, and some pantsers take more time to plot.
Writers hate being pigeon-holed.
Well, you opened a can of worms, Chris.
I didn’t anticipate discovering that novel pantsers plot short stories, or that novel plotters, pants short stories.
We are getting really cryptic here. Anyone from outside the writing field is going to think we’re crazy!
I love the ‘if it works for you, do it!’. So apt.
Elini,
There are so many ‘rules’ for writing and I see them broken all the time, by writers who manage to make it work. So … If ti works, do it. LOL
One of the biggest problems for me, because i mainly pants, is that I can rarely see what the ending should be. I have many stories lying around 95% written but with no end in sight. Nowadays I force myself to write down a final sentence to work towards.
Rita, if you work out what your theme is. eg.
Redemption
Loyalty under testing circumstances
father son relationships
then you can go back and look at the story in a fresh light. This will help you find an ending.
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