When I first began writing, (and didn’t really know anything–but just HAD to get the story out), I was a pantser. Big time. I wrote feverishly with little focus on detail, possible plot issues or character inconsistencies. It was a free-for-all. Writing, just for the sake of writing. It was beautiful and wonderful, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
Then came the revisions. The edits. Followed by alternating moments of uncontrollable laughter and free-flowing tears. A time or two, blood was even spilled. And I cried over that, too.
The learning curve had begun.
From that point on, I did start to weave some plotting into everything I did. (even if my plotting lacked a strong spine and a beating heart). I secretly still longed for pantsing-monogamy and felt like I was cheating on my first love, Mr. Writing-with-Uncontrolled-Abandon.
Luckily, over time, I have found a way to bring both into the picture and create a symbiotic relationship that has lasted to this day. (aside from the occasional jealousy felt by Mr. I’m-Detailed-and-Well-Organized.)
Plotting gives my stories meat, direction, and details that pantsing might otherwise miss. Pantsing sparks creativity, flow and passion for writing–something plotting can’t come close to helping me create. To me, they are necessary partners in the process. Each contributing something important and vital. I respect them both.
In the future, though I strive to be more a Plotting-Pantser instead of a Pantser-Plotter. I think my writing will only be better for it. Only time will tell.
