There are, in theory, two kinds of writers. There are plotters, who plot their stories from beginning to end, know everything that will happen, and plow through. It’s efficient, neat, and tidy.

At least, I think it must be. I’m not a plotter. I’m a pantser. I might have a vague idea of what’s going to happen and what the end should look like, but it’s murky. I have to get into it and flail around for a while before I find the treasure. I get the job done, usually, but sometimes it takes re-writes before I wipe all the slime off. It’s not at all how I do anything else in my life. I dislike this method.

I’m told there are ways that pantsers can plot. Mind-mapping. Free writing. Sticky notes on the wall.

Mmmhmmmm. Those are great if you have a little nugget of story to work with. There needs to be some source material, or I’m staring at a blank page. I’m giving it another try for book 3, using all of those tools and working on a little piece at a time. I’ll leave an open spot on my sticky note wall to bang my head against.

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