Tag: creative-writing

Mapping a Dystopian World: A Pantser’s Journey with Planning

A pantser tries planning for a change. Let’s just say it was…interesting.

With the new year a little over a month behind us, I thought I would begin to post again. To write again, and to once again try something new. So, I thought I would step away from the Indie Publishing Series to allow it to breathe.

Oddly enough, I first started using a notebook to map out characters for a suspense story. When that fell through and the juices were no longer flowing, so to speak, it turned into a character worksheet for Taming Armand. Although it helped (my definition of ‘help’ is very loose here), I found myself writing out scenes instead of actual character development-which I thought was the exact opposite of a planning notebook. Now, I had the horrid task of transcribing everything from my spiral notebook into a Word doc.

I completed the transcribing with disgust etched into my features while I dredged up memories of why I had forgone writing with pen and paper when and where I could help it. I left the story planning notebook alone until I got into my dystopian sci-fi bag; now I find myself relaying on it to get me going on my first draft.

Why Now?

You may ask that question, and it’s a fair one given that I have let my disgust for planning out stories known. I needed a place, aside from the jumbled and tumbled workroom of my mind, to work out the kinks. To see the world before I put in down on paper. I needed a place to workshop this new world I am building. I needed to see it alive on the paper.

What sounds good in my head at times doesn’t work well on paper. I am sure as a fellow writer you know the struggle. If you’re not a writer then you know as a human.

What Works?

Planning out this dystopian world allows me to keep the rules straight, to keep order to the creative disorder I am writing. See, when you’re building a world from scratch—especially one where society has collapsed or twisted into something unrecognizable—there are rules. Lots of them. Who has power? Who doesn’t? What technology survived? What died with the old world?

If I don’t keep track of these things, I’ll end up with a character using electricity in Chapter 3 when I clearly stated in Chapter 1 that the grid’s been dead for twenty years. Or worse, I’ll forget which factions are at war with each other and accidentally write a alliance that makes zero sense.

The notebook gives me a reference point. A map, if you will. And for someone who usually flies by the seat of their pants, having that safety net is both liberating…and terrifying.

The Balance

Here’s the thing I’m learning: I don’t have to choose between being a pantser and being a planner. I can be both. I can sketch out the bones of this dystopian world—the geography, the power structures, the technology, the history—and then let my characters run wild within those boundaries.

It’s like building a playground. I construct the equipment, set the perimeter, establish the rules, and then I let the kids play however they want. Sometimes they surprise me. Sometimes they break things. But at least I know where the boundaries are.

I’m still writing scenes in that notebook—old habits die hard—but now they’re scenes that fit. They make sense within the world I’ve built. They don’t contradict the rules I’ve laid out three pages earlier.

Moving Forward

Will I become a full-time planner? Probably not. I assure you no. At least no time soon. I still believe in the magic that happens when you just write, when you let the story surprise you, when you let your characters speak, rather than manufacture them. But I’m also learning that some stories—particularly ones with complex world-building—need a little structure to keep them from collapsing under their own weight.

So here I am, a pantser with a planning notebook, building a dystopian world one scribbled note at a time. It’s messy. It’s imperfect. And yes, I’ll probably still end up transcribing half of it into a Word doc with disgust etched into my features.

But it’s working. And sometimes, that’s enough.

Have you ever tried planning when you’re naturally a pantser? Or vice versa? The Weirdo Writes wants to know.

Flying Blind: A Pantser’s Thoughts

There’s a moment in every writer’s journey when they have to choose between control and surrender. When faced with this conundrum, do you grip the steering wheel tighter? Or do you slide over to the passenger seat and see where the ride takes you?

For me, that choice came about 1,500 words into what I thought would be a simple, cheesy romance posted for free on Inkitt. Little did I know, my characters had other plans—even the ones that had yet to make their presence known.

I have a confession: I am a pantser. Yep. I go into every story flying blind. I start with a character, a problem, and often absolutely no direction. But I don’t panic. I let the characters decide where to take me.

When I write, I like to think of myself as a scribe—but a scribe with unprecedented access to the characters’ inner thoughts, secrets, desires, and untold history. Nothing is hidden from me.

Now, this “flying blind” approach isn’t without challenges. Sometimes I hit a wall, and not for the reasons you might initially expect.

With Taming Armand, I hit a wall when the story’s direction completely shifted. I initially jumped on Inkitt intending to write a cutesy love story—something a little erotic and, well… cheesy. But around 1,500 words in, the characters hijacked my plans. After chapter one, the secret history of how Armand’s father became alpha and the complex dynamics of one-sided sibling rivalry took over, kicking me out of the driver’s seat. I was no longer controlling what played on the radio.

I found myself writing Taming Armand thinking, “Wow, I didn’t expect it to go this way,” or clutching my pearls at scenarios that unfolded naturally as I continued writing. It was no longer my story—it belonged to Armand, Amelia, Maximillian, and the rest. I, the scribe, had moved to the periphery, becoming merely a spectator who wanted to record everything I’d seen and heard.

Now, I’m not prejudiced against planning. I see the merits in outlining, but as someone who has tried to plan stories, I have to say it’s truly not for me. What was supposed to be a simple outline quickly ballooned into twenty pages of actual story. During that planning exercise, the little bit I did outline was never referenced (honestly, I think I lost it entirely).

Then there was the time I sat down to write a story with a specific ending in mind—something happy. I wanted to step outside my comfort zone and write something, well… uplifting. Instead, the character took me down a dark but humorous path of murder, flaying, and repressed sexual desires. Trust me, I didn’t see any of that coming, at least not for this particular story.

It was with this story that I really evaluated what type of writer I was and am. More importantly, it gave me the courage to embrace who I am as a writer. I don’t write with outlines. An idea comes to me from the ether, I grab hold of it, and let it lead me wherever it wants to go. In simpler, less fluffy terms: I’ve accepted that most writing advice articles aren’t very useful to me because of my approach to storytelling. I’ve learned not to bend myself to fit what a writer is “supposed to do” or how they’re “supposed to approach” story or character development. I’ve learned not to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak.

Do I think my writing life would be easier if I planned? Probably. I’d likely have a higher chance of meeting writing deadlines. But flying blind is where I’m most comfortable, and I feel I do my best work. I’m a better writer when I sit down with no expectations other than getting started. After that first line, the characters take over, and I let them run wild.

Are you a planner or a pantser? Or do you prefer a mixture of both?

The Weirdo wants to know!

My Rocky Road to NaNoWriMo

My attempts at participating in NaNoWriMo…haven’t always gone as planned.

With this not so new year and ,most importantly, a new me I think I can conquer NaNoWriMo 2024. Okay, maybe not conquer necessarily but I can definitely inflict some serious word count wounds and finish up Bloody Endings: Book 2 of the Coven Origins Series. The highly anticipated sequel to Taming Armand: Book 1 of the Coven Origins Series (yes, a shameless plug is not beneath me, lol).

In order to take you down this path to finally and actively participating in NaNoWriMo I must set the scene. So, I will need to take you back to October 2022 as the treasured and much anticipated writing month of November was looming large. It’s a time of the year where writers seasoned and new make something akin to a resolution, a challenge, if you will to write 50K of a novel. Or to start or finish that manuscript that has been sitting idly in the word processor of your choice or stuffed away in a notebook collecting dust.

That year I had finally narrowed down a focus to one manuscript and only days before November 1st I had broken the 10K word count. Talk about elation. I was finally doing it. I was finally writing a book. I was ready and enthusiastic, this would be my first NaNoWriMo, and I was ready and more than willing to give it all I had. My beady black eyes were set on exceeding my personal goal of 40k by the end of November.

But fate or rather my body had other disruptive plans.

Illness happened and not just a bout of the flu but something that not only set me back but had me lying at Death’s door, or rather I like to think I was in his driveway. I like to believe I wasn’t that close, but the encyclopedia of medical notes and list of diagnoses say I was closer than I will ever be without actually have died.

So, while I awaited on an official diagnosis and subsequently my fate curled in a hospital bed my manuscript sat on my laptop at home far out of my grasp. Long story short, I couldn’t participate.

I was heartbroken that my first real attempt at gaining major ground on my manuscript was derailed by my unruly body. My treasonous immune system had the final say and NaNoWriMo 2022 was a no go.

The year 2023 hits and I made progress. I was well enough to start trying to bring some normalcy to my life. I was back in my room with my cat, my books and iced coffee. The year and my health seemed to be going well.

Although I did not hit the 40k I had promised myself, I am grateful to have walked away with my life and a renewed sense of self and a rededication to my writing.

Then Life once again lifed.

My mother suddenly became ill, my grandmother’s cognitive abilities continued and rapidly declined. My own health was stagnant. I wasn’t getting better but I hadn’t gotten worse and took that small victory, and gasping for breath, ran for the hills.

Ultimately, Mother lost her battle with cancer leaving behind a heartbroken author that didn’t want to write. Prior to my mother’s death, Babe my beloved four legged feline confidant lost her own battle. Completing the old saying ‘Death comes in threes’ was Granny. After months of forgetting, she too threw in the towel seeking a place where she could finally remember.

I grieved.

I am still grieving.

Eeven as a year will be marked for each of their deaths. But the will and the spirit to write has returned. The passion that was lost has returned and I plan to take full advantage of it.

NaNoWriMo 2024 here I am.