The Pros and Perils of the Pantser

One thing I’ve learned recently, during my practice of writing one flash fiction every week, is that being a “pantser” comes with its own unique challenges. For those who don’t know, a pantser is a writer who begins a story without outlining it. They are the opposite of plotters, who always pre-plan their stories before writing it.

On a given day being a pantser, my word-inventory might be strong: I’ll feel warmed up to create beautiful descriptions or narration, with stunning literary devices. But without a vision of where I’m taking my story, I cannot write a single sentence, unless I want a speculative piece, maybe.

So I sit at my page and generate visions on the fly—how many characters to include, what setting, theme, etc.—and that eats up writing time. I’ve had quick brainstorm sessions before, don’t get me wrong, and being a pantser feels more free than being a plotter, having to follow the rules of a rigid outline. But if I brainstorm sloppily, I also risk gluing cliches together to make a story.

Here’s an example:

(Bland brainstorm session) A cigarette dropped in woods causes fire.

(Effective brainstorm session) A blow-torch is used in woods to reveal secret bunker under the foliage.

To get that uniqueness takes more mental effort. But if you make it, it’s definitely worth it.

The Visionary and The Writer

The Visionary. To me, a Visionary is someone who sees the entire picture at once and can intuit numerous, distinct ways of presenting it. As a writing professor in college put it, before you begin writing draft two of a story, you should reflect on the story within the story.

Is such-and-such really a short fiction about a home invader, or is it actually a story about a negligent father who suffers for not paying attention?

Also, consider the scenes we don’t get to see in a character’s life. There is the story the reader has privilege to experience, and then there are events that characters experience (for them in turtle-paced real time) but we don’t see or sometimes even hear about.

An example would be a story that chooses to show a character’s morning routine, their commute to work or school, a scene while their at work, and then it’ll skip to the next day, without showing their commute home or what they did that night.

And even if we got scenes in a character’s home, their commute, work/school, their commute back home, and dinner, those scenes take place within a few pages, not several hours like for us in the real world.

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A Visionary looks at these reader-hidden details and can add them to a story to enhance it. A Visionary can alter or cut scenes. A Visionary is an excellent developmental editor. Essentially, a Visionary is one who practices the art of plotting, outlining, character creation, and theme.

Visionaries are necessary for earth-shattering storytelling. A favorite example of mine is season 3 of the Marvel show Daredevil. Not only did each episode leave me hooked, but also the conclusion was unpredictable. I also felt this in the prison story arc in the novel “Live By Night” by Dennis Lehane.

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The Visionary paints the most excellent blueprint. Elegant. Immaculate. But it is the Writer who assembles the conception. Brick by brick. Word by word. And while the Writer must scoot up close and only see pieces of the blueprint at a time, only the Writer can put the house together, can add the style. The literary devices. The sentence length.

An example would be the short stories and microfiction of Lydia Davis. They often have simple plots, but it’s her masterful sentences that makes readers chuckle or awe at her work.

To be a fiction writer, one must balance visionary thinking and granular thinking. Be sure to find joy in both.

How to Say Something Unique – The Parts of Speech

One of my favorite parts of writing is creating awesome sentences. To really get the reader unexpecting on each line—to the point where they’re hooked cuz they just HAVE to read the next line—you have to break some conventions.

Here’s a convention: the parts of speech. Nouns are nouns, verbs are verbs, etc. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

I mean, you could sneak inside a building, but you could also patience your way to the front of the line. And you get the same results—one’s just more fun better than the other.

Similarly, you could skip school, but you could also skip eating (this second example uses what’s called a gerrund, which is when an “-ing” verb functions as a noun).

There are many parts of speech and many ways to mess around with them. What will you come up with?

Good Nouns Go a Long Way

Adjectives may be strong, but nouns are powerful. With a good noun, you can go an entire story with an adjective.

Adjectives are strong, but sometimes they can be weak. Take the phrases below for example:

“a funny guy”

“a guy who is funny

Both examples are helpful describg the noun (“guy”) but they are also flawed. In the first phrase, if the page cut off after the adjective “funny,” readers would be confused. A funny what? T-shirt? Song?

The second example shares this flaw. It uses an relative clause (“who is _”) which functions as an adjective, since it describes the noun. It’s a handy technique, but if the page cut off anywhere after “guy” and before “funny,” readers would be lost. Imagine if after the “is” was information that never again gets revealed in a story. The sentence could read: “A guy who is a fan of sentimental operas, though he tends not share this with others.” But readers would only see “a guy who is” and never be fufilled. Ah, the unaddressed suspense…!

Don’t get me wrong, adjectives are great. They can be excellent descriptors, with phrases like “a witty guy” or “a guy who has a wry sense of humor.” But they hold nouns back.

With a good noun in a phrase, you don’t need an adjective:

“A prankster

“A comedian

“An impressionist

In one word, a reader has learned information that previously required two words.

Whenever you’re revising your work, it’s always a good idea to look at the adjectives you’ve used and decide if they work good or if they could swapped out for a better noun. Happy writing, and seeya next time!

My Dream Creative Writing Club

When I was in Temple University, I was part of a campus lit mag called Hyphen. It published annually. Meetings were weekly, and anyone who attended was considered an editor, able to cast a vote for the acceptance or rejection of a piece. Pieces included art, poems, and short stories, and while editors could read in advance, time was given during each meeting to review a piece before casting a vote. Hyphen had a fun and simple formula, one fruitful for socializing and for keeping the creative juices fresh. The submissions we reviewed enlightened me on new ways to use prose, as did hearing the critiques from my fellow members. And the memes we’d share amongst each other? Priceless.

But even at the time, despite my love for Hyphen, I knew more could be done. For example, we could’ve had guidelines on how many of each submission type we’d accept. Regarding what got put in the magazine, we pretty much went with what got the most votes, and poetry was super popular; little room was left for short stories. We also could’ve had punctuation, formatting, and style guidelines, maybe even a word count, to keep pages visually consistent. At the end of the semester, once all the pieces are selected, editors transition from voting to grammar repair. Having a style guide would give editors more to do, more skills to practice, and also more to put on a resume.

But this is my dream club, right? So anything goes? Cuz I’d LOVE to have workshop sessions, for editors and potential submitters for their poetry, prose, and artwork submissions. Imagine a feedback and critique session, with the chance to submit again later on.

How about having themed issues of a lit mag? That would be cool. Open mic sessions to perform/practice poetry. Drawing sessions. Writing sprints.

Oo! Here’s a good one. Analyzing grammar in excerpts of prose or poetry, picking paragraphs apart for literary devices and syntax tricks like a ravaging grammar wolf🐺

There could even be sessions where we read short stories and analyzed them on the macro scale—plot, character, theme instead of writing style.

A writing club that combined all these things would be the best writing club ever. Who knows. Maybe I’ll be the one to start it…