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.

I absolutely love first drafts. They’re my favourite part of the whole writing process. I love exploring a story for the very first time, getting to know new characters and discovering unexpected surprises throughout the book. But first drafts are hard. I don’t know about you, but most of my time is spent sitting there, staring at the blinking cursor, trying to think of the right words to fill that blank page. It’s difficult. No wonder writer’s block strikes so often.

For the past 3-4 months or so, I’ve been solidly editing. It’s been quite a while since I wrote anything brand new. But now it’s November, and it’s NaNoWriMo, and I’m just starting my novel for the month. And it’s hard. Writing a first draft is so different to rearranging words and events in editing, or polishing prose. I’m having to start again with nothing.

And I think that’s the problem.

When we write a first draft, we’re starting with nothing more than an idea, or maybe an outline, and nothing more than that. When you edit, you’ve got something to work with, no matter how bad. It certainly has its own set of challenges and problems, but at least you have something to base your writing on. It’s not a blank page. You’re not having to create characters, plots, whole worlds out of your own head.

You’ve got so much freedom when you’re drafting, but it’s almost too much freedom. Literally anything could happen and that can be paralysing. How are you supposed to pick the right choice out of an infinite number of options? How can you tell if it’s the right thing to do or not? No wonder the blank page is such a terrifying place. It’s full of potential. Cram packed full and running over with so much potential it’s frightening.

Because the book in your head is so bright and shiny and perfect. It has the potential to be the best book ever written. Every book does. And even though we don’t mean to, sometimes we subconsciously pressure ourselves to capture that perfectness first time around. When you sit down to write a first draft, that book is still perfect. It hasn’t been tarnished by clumsy phrasing, cliché plots, or flat characters. It’s got unlimited potential. And the need to get it right first time round can be crippling. Because it’s amazing, it’s gripping, it’s right there and if you could just find the right words to capture it, this story would touch the hearts of every reader.

Stop. Breathe.

No first draft is ever going to be perfect. That shimmering, perfect book you’ve got in your mind? That is the product of hundreds of hours of blood sweat and tears, thousands of hours of writing and rewriting and polishing until every phrase sings. Nothing that beautiful is ever come by easily or quickly. To reach that end point, that perfect book, you first have to start with your lump of raw material. A page full of wrong words that you polish and change until they’re right. How can something perfect come from nothing at all?

But that’s what writing is, a foray into the unknown. A thousand wrong paths taken in search of one right one. It can seem to take forever. It can be frustrating. But at the end, that’s your book, the shining, brilliant, beautiful thing. And every step you take, every wrong turn is one closer to getting it right. But first you need your clay, your pile of wrong words and missteps. So put down that bad first draft. That’s the real first step towards your perfect book.

It’s the fourth week of Camp NaNoWriMo, and writers are either getting excited about approaching the ends of their books, or wondering why they started their books in the first place. Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of writing a book, I start seeing all the flaws in my book, thinking about how much work it’s going to take to make it readable, and get the urge to throw my hands in the air and give up. It’s at times like this that I need to rediscover my excitement in this book. I have several ways to re-find that excitement. Here are four of them:

Having other people show an interest in my book sometimes rekindles my enthusiasm. Telling someone about all the cool things I’ve put in the plot can sometimes spark a memory of just why I was excited to write the book. It could be a character. It could be a particular scene. Maybe it was a plot situation. I often talk to my sister Charlotte about whatever book I’m writing, and her interest in them encourages me to keep writing, no matter how bad the book seems to me.

When talking to someone else isn’t possible, or I need a daily reminder of why I liked the story in the first place, I make a list of all my favourite things about the project. I might love one of the characters, or a witty bit of dialogue. I write them down, focusing on actively looking for the good in my book rather than dwelling on the bad bits. It can be a good idea to print the list out and put it where you can see it easily so that you have a constant reminder of what you like about the book.

Taking a short break from writing and doing something else connected to my book can sometimes spark fresh enthusiasm. When I’m having a bad writing day, sometimes I take half an hour and look for pictures of characters, settings and objects from my book. Finding pictures that suit my project often makes me excited about writing my book again as I start to visualise the story.

My sister Charlotte, who also writes, suggested that it can be helpful to read through part of your book when you’re down about your writing. You may find that the book is as bad as you remembered, but there is a high chance that you’ll actually find that there are lots of good bits in it. It’s easy to have a negative view on your project, and reminding yourself of what you actually wrote can be very reassuring. Plus, seeing how good it actually is can be encouraging.

Writer Nora Roberts once said “You can fix anything but a blank page” and I think that’s very true. The first draft of your book isn’t going to be perfect. It’s going to have plot holes, boring characters and pages of waffling. But something got you excited enough about this story to make you start writing it. If it was worth starting this book, then it’s worth finishing it too. You can fix the problems and make it shine later, but only if you first finish it. If your book seems terrible at the moment, it’s worth stopping to remember what it is you loved about this story. Because your story is worth getting excited about. 

What is one thing you like about your novel? If you’re doing Camp NaNoWriMo, how are you getting on? Have you got any suggestions about how to rekindle excitement toward a project?