I have always loved pantsing my way through a novel, throwing myself headlong into the rush of creating a story without any clear idea of where I’m going or what I’m doing. I like the huge mess that pantsing leaves me with slightly less, and the fact that I need to redraft these books two or three times before I find a plot that actually makes sense even less so. Because of this, over time, I have tried to teach myself to outline more, think through my plots at least a little before I write them so that the resulting draft is not quite such a bundle of randomness and errors.

For the most part, I am doing much better since adopting a loose outlining strategy. I’ve found a way of plotting that gives me the freedom to experiment while still coming out of it with a basic story that is solid enough to work with. Well, most of the time. My most recent Camp Novel is a bit of a failure there. But overall, planning my novels just a little bit before I begin has been really helping me write better novels overall. After all, I can weave in story threads earlier, I don’t lose my way in the plot as much, and I contradict myself way less.

And yet, I will always be a panster.

Let me explain. The novel I planned for this month, I finished in just over two weeks, leaving me with a large chunk of month in which to do more writing. So I elected rather than just stopping there, to pants my way through another novel. A novel for which I had exactly no ideas. It’s a recipe that seems slated for disaster, doesn’t it? And yet I feel like the ideas that I’m pouring into this novel are better, fresher than the ones in my planned novel (though that one has very definite issues in other ways).

The thing about pantsing a novel from start to finish is that there are no limits. My mind goes crazy coming up with little bits of ideas, stringing them together in more unusual patterns than I usually do in brainstorming. Granted, the resulting mess is usually not useable, but the ideas that I come up with on the fly are fantastic. I love them. They make no sense together and I love that too. I am more creative when I’m writing than I am at any other time. It’s like the saying goes, I don’t know what I want to say until I see what I have written. How do I know what ideas will work until I’ve tried them out? Pantsing a novel is a way of generating ideas, testing things and throwing stuff together to see what sticks and what doesn’t.

And this is why I will always be a pantser, why I will always write these terrible novels by the seat of my pants with a blank slate and no limits. Because it keeps me fresh and generates new ideas that I can use in more structured works. It exercises a freedom that my brain needs sometimes to go wild and find those connections that I don’t when I’m just planning. I am a pantser at heart, and, deep down inside, I don’t think I will ever quite give that up.

As a bonus, here is the vlog I should have posted on Monday but didn’t, all about five writing quirks I have. Let me know if you’re enjoying these vlogs!

It’s week two of Camp NaNoWriMo, and I’ve recorded another vlog about how I’m going. I’m coming to the realisation that this draft is an absolute mess. And you know what? I’m perfectly ok with that. In the vlog, I explain why.

Also, as an extra little bonus, here’s an excerpt from my Camp NaNo Novel. It is woefully unedited and first draft-y as I haven’t touched it since I wrote it, but hopefully you find it enjoyable anyway.



How is your Camp NaNoWriMo going? What are you working on at the moment? Let’s chat!

It’s Camp NaNoWriMo right now, which means that I am deep, deep into writing a new first draft. I mentioned in my bonus vlog on Mondaythat one of the things I’ve been struggling with the most so far this month is switching my brain from ninth draft mode, where things are partially polished and fairly sound structurally, to a messy, rough, plot hole ridden first draft. Now, don’t get me wrong, first drafting is absolutely still my favourite part of the writing process. But at the same time, it has been sparking quite a few thoughts about comparisons.

Have you ever read a book that blew you away with just how good it was, and then looked at your own novel only to be discouraged by how bad it is? Or read something from one of your writing friends, and then shuffled your novel under a pile of papers so no one could see the mess that you’re working on? Have you ever read your own writing and cringed at how bad it seems? I don’t know about you, but this is something I feel often.

Why does our work always compare so unfavourably to everyone else’s?

I think the first issue is familiarity. We’ve been looking at our own writing for so long, staring at it, searching out flaws, looking for problems on purpose, especially when we’re editing, until we almost hate even looking at the words. Your brain is programmed to look for the problems, the inconsistencies, the holes. We can’t see the good parts because, consciously or not, we’re searching for the things that wrong with our writing. It’s why we need to take time away between drafts, so that we can come back and see our own writing with eyes that are fresh and can see the good parts as well as the bad.

Another factor is where your book is in its writing journey. This might be your first draft, but what your writer friend is sharing could be in its fifth. Or they’ve just selected the best moments from their novels to share, revising them many times to make sure that they’re only presenting good moments. No one wants to show their novel in a bad light. It’s like watching a highlight reel of their novels, while you’re still slogging through the hours of hard work in your own. Or you’re comparing the novel you’re editing to a book that has had literally years of work put into it and dozens of eyes working on making it better. How is it fair to you, or your book to compare your first draft to someone else’s final product?

And finally, every writer is different. I personally love books with beautiful description, lyrical writing that leaps off the page in brightly coloured images, deep messages and uplifting, meandering plotlines. These aren’t the books that I write. And when I compare my books to these, mine appear unfavourably. Because it’s not fair to compare two different styles. How can you compare apples with oranges, or sparsely described, action filled novels with slower paced, musical tales wandering through thoughts and themes? Your book is beautiful, just in a different way.

My first draft compares terribly to my ninth draft. My ninth draft compares badly to many of the books that I love to read. And that’s ok. Because my first draft is only in the beginning stages. My ninth draft is written completely differently to the books I love. And I’ve been working on them both so much I can’t see where they are. Sometimes we just need to a step back and see just how good our writing can actually be.

As many of you already know, even if you’re not participating, Camp NaNoWriMo started on Saturday. For me, it’s already day 3, I’m pushing through my word count, getting into the swing of things, and I got the urge to try something a bit different and make a video to talk to you about what I’m writing, what challenges I’m facing this time, and generally chatting all things Camp NaNoWriMo.

Let me know what you think of the video, whether you’d like to see more occasionally, whether it was fine as a one off but you’d rather not see any more, any thoughts? Also, are you taking part in Camp NaNoWriMo this month? Have you ever done a NaNoWriMo or Camp NaNoWriMo before? What are you working on this month?

Camp NaNoWriMo starts in April. A month long excuse to pour out words onto the page in an adrenaline fuelled rush? A chance to banish the inner editor and the little demon who sits on your shoulders whispering judgement on what you’re writing? Count me in! It’s time to gear up with other writers to commit to writing your book.

I love every minute of it.

This will be my eleventh Camp NaNo. I’m aiming for 75k this time, or a finished novel. Either is good.  Not that I’m ready for Camp at all. My outline is half finished. My ending is sketchy in the extreme. And the only reason I know anything about the world or characters is because this is a sequel to a book I’ve already written. But that’s half the fun really, diving into the challenge half prepared and chasing after the story at top speed.

Beside, I’m a pantser at heart. I love the thrill of discovering the story as it’s unfolding on the page. I love my little, messy, plot hole filled first drafts with their millions of typos and nonsensical twists and turns. I’m learning to like outlines and knowing where I’m going, but give me a sniff of that open, uncharted road and there’s no telling where the story will take me.

Come Saturday, I’ll be cracking open a new document, probably staring blankly at the page for a good half hour as I attempt to figure out where to begin (why is it always so difficult to start a new novel?), and finally getting a start on a new tale of adventure. That’s where I’ll be. Will you be Camping too? No? No idea what Camp NaNoWriMo even is? (Don’t worry, I have a whole post on that right HERE). Are you ready to tackle April’s challenge together?

I think most writers have a dream of having long, uninterrupted stretches of time in which to write. Time when people aren’t disturbing them, time not squeezed in around study, work, and other commitments. I know I often wish for more time for my writing. Even though I can literally arrange my day any way I like, writing still has to compete with my work for my YouTubechannel, my family, emails, blogging, looking after the house, cooking, sleeping, and a host of other life things.

But something I’ve learnt is, you don’t need unlimited time to write.

I started writing seriously when I was 14. It was amazing. I had whole days in which to sit and write. And I did. I spent hours typing away on a slow desktop computer with a bad habit of overheating at bad moments. People just left me to my own devices. I did my first NaNoWriMo in 2011, won it and loved it. I had all the time in the world to write in.

And then I started university, and all those free hours disappeared.

To be fair, I absolutely loved my course. I studied writing and publishing, learned to write poetry (badly), creative non-fiction (even more badly), and learned about editors and publishing. But at the same time, there were no long stretches of just staring at the screen, letting the inspiration come to me when and if it wanted to. If I couldn’t get the words out at once, the opportunity was gone and it was back to lectures, writing essays, researching, stressing over deadlines. The long mornings of writing turned into twenty minutes before I started studying, half an hour of coffee, and whatever time I could force my tired brain to work in after everything else was done at night.

And yet, I was more productive than ever.

In 2010-2011, before I started at university, I wrote maybe 3 novels at best. In 2012 I wrote 6, plus editing at least 3 drafts. That NaNoWriMo was also my most productive, clocking in over 300,000 words. Even though I was so much busier in the rest of my life, somehow I was also writing more, finishing more books, writing so much more with so much less time. Because it’s not really about how many hours you have. It’s what you do with them.

Having more limited time meant I had to make the most of what free moments I had. I had to get those words down as fast as I could. I had to be disciplined. I had to scrape together time wherever I could, because if I didn’t, I wasn’t going to get anything written at all that day. And I never even considered quitting, which meant that that time was going to come from somewhere.

I’ve kept a lot of those habits actually. I write, sitting in the car while waiting to pick people up from music lessons. I brainstorm while driving to get my sister from work. I write notes while cooking dinner. I write while on my coffee break. I’ve even had times where I’ve gotten up an hour earlier to write because that was the only time available.

You don’t need all the time in the world to write. You don’t need hours and hours to be brilliant in. You can be amazing in the cracks of time between other things. In fact, you can be more brilliant than ever. Never, ever write off the power of a free five minutes. Trust me, those five minutes are the most important. Write when you can. You’d be surprised at how much you can actually get done.

Writing is a strange occupation. The moment we need to write, our brains instantly push us to go and do something else: post on Twitter, wash the dishes, walk the dog, create an elaborate five tiered tiramisu cake. Any, as long as it isn’t writing. And yet, the feeling of having written is one of the best. Often, we write just for the feeling of having written afterwards. But writing itself, that’s a terribly hard thing. Motivation doesn’t come easily, inspiration strikes rarely, and even the act of forcing yourself to sit down and push out a couple of words can be agony.

Sometimes I wonder why I do it.

Writing isn’t sitting in front of a desk for eight hours and pouring out ink from your soul. It isn’t days of slipping out of bed to catch the muse, armed with a latte and a fresh bagel. It’s not sitting in the sunshine with a mug of tea, brewing the perfect plot twist and soaking in the inspiration. And it’s very rarely writing through your meals because you’re so inspired that you can’t possibly stop until you’ve got all the words down.

Writing is hard. It’s messy. It’s days of forcing yourself to the desk when you don’t feel like it. It’s snatching moments between other things to crunch out a few words. It’s weeks of emptiness, where the words aren’t coming, dark nights of doubting your own abilities, staring at your book and seeing the flaws and hating yourself because no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t match up to what you want it to be.

So why do we keep putting ourselves through this? Why keep forcing yourself to eke out another few words when all you want to do is burn the whole thing and take up beekeeping? Why hasn’t this strange beast that is the life of a writer scared us to our senses yet? What is it about writing that keeps us coming back every day, asking for more punishment, bloodied and bruised still from our last round in the ring?

Because we can’t not.

We were born with stories in our souls. There are words inside us that need to come out. It doesn’t matter whether anyone will read them or not. It doesn’t even matter if we ever read them again. But we can’t do anything but show up to write them down. When we step away from writing, it’s only a matter of time before we have to come back, have to write down the words and empty the stories out of our minds. I read this great quote today which sums us up perfectly.

Writing is hard. It’s messy. It hurts sometimes. It’s riddled with self-doubt. But it’s amazing. Because writing isn’t about the difficulties. It’s about what you make, what you do. The hardships are just steps on the road. Think of how good you feel after you’ve written. Imagine what it’s like to finish something. Remember those times when the writing did come smoothly. Envision a piece of writing you were proud of. We might be teachers, artists, doctors, anything. But we are also writers. It doesn’t matter how hard the writing is. We show up anyway. Because this is what we do. How could we do anything else?