Are You A Pantser?

Are You a Pantser?

Have you ever seen a movie where a writer sits down and suddenly starts typing a full-fledged novel? No outline. No plan. They’re just “inspired,” and words pour out of them like magic.

If you relate to those scenes, you might be a pantser.

But what does that mean for you and your story? Excellent question.

From one pantser to another, let’s talk about the strengths and pitfalls of our process — and how it affects finishing a draft.

Pantsing Defined

A pantser writes first and plans after discovering the story. This method is known as flying by the seat of your pants.

Many famous authors are devout pantsers, even though they rarely explain the process.

I’m not famous, but allow me.

Pantsing usually starts with a single moment inside the story. I rarely get a broad idea for a novel. Instead, my stories arrive in pieces:

• A conversation between a king and a woman he’s caught breaking into his library

• A woman holding a golden egg

• Fog rolling over mountains before a winter storm

This is where we begin, and the story expands through writing.

But does this method finish drafts?

You may have seen content online insisting you must outline. Some people will try to convince you your process can’t finish a novel.

They aren’t entirely wrong — but they also aren’t entirely right.

Pantsing isn’t really about how you plan your novel.

It’s about how you generate ideas.

Planners often start with a broad concept and narrow it into scenes through outlines.

We think in the opposite direction. Our tiny pieces expand outward.

Let me be clear: Neither method is wrong.

Pantsing is how we think. All the outlines in the world won’t change that.

What we can do is learn how to funnel this expanding process into a method that actually helps us finish drafts.

Pantsing is about how you generate ideas.

The Momentum of Discovery Writing

A planner may have twenty thousand words in outlines and templates.

The pantser has twenty thousand words of a working draft.

It might be messy. It might be incomplete. It might not even be in order — but we have it.

Those first pages are discovery writing, and they matter more than you think.

Inside them, we aren’t planning a novel. We’re allowing worlds and characters to evolve naturally without the pressure of a predetermined plot.

Let’s face it — we don’t have a plan.

And honestly, that lack of plan is often what allows emotions, conflicts, and personalities to emerge naturally.

This can make our stories incredibly dynamic. By the end of the process, we usually have a huge amount of information to work with.

What we lack is a destination.

The Story That Never Ends

If you’ve read my note from the creator, then you already know I’m not a published author. As a matter of fact, I spent decades learning, writing, and ultimately not finishing drafts.

This is exactly why.

I kept writing the story that never ends.

As pantsers, the more we write, the more our stories expand outward. They compound until we’re drowning in information without any real direction.

We meander.

We drift.

We write characters doing mundane things.

Eventually, we run out of steam, get confused, get bored, or give up entirely.

We need a destination.

We need guardrails.

It took me a long time to figure that out, but eventually I found a method that worked for me.

Now I’m offering that method to you.

Magic Containers

Pantsing is like spray foam.

(Sorry for the metaphor. I’ve been watching too many craft videos.)

Our writing expands to fill whatever space we give it.

The trick is giving it a container before you start.

I use scenes and beats because they’re small enough to contain the expansion while still giving my creativity room to breathe.

Example: Opening Image — 1,000 words A story about a woman who lays a golden egg.

Now I have:

• a destination

• a beat with a purpose

• a general concept

• a rough word-count guideline

I’m still discovering the story through writing.

I’m just doing it inside guardrails.

Does this sound uncomfortable? It was for me too — at first.

As pantsers, we become accustomed to being entranced by our own creativity. It feels magical when words pour out of us.

But is it really magic — or is your writing process being controlled by something that already belongs to you?

Your creativity is your own. You drive the engine. It doesn’t drive you.

And you’d be amazed at how quickly creativity adapts to containers. Like spray foam, it fills whatever space you provide.

But first, you have to provide the container.

Building A Parking Lot

Discovery writing is still how I write stories.

I am completely incapable of building a world through plot grids, outlines, or even inside my own story grid alone. That’s simply not how my brain works.

But now I have a parking lot for all those scattered pieces.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a snappy little exchange between a man and a woman at a party. I had no idea where it came from, but I opened my grid, scanned the beats, and immediately realized it was a romance hook.

So I plugged it into that slot.

As more pieces arrive, I write them out and place them where they belong.

No more hundreds of pages of chaos.

No more trying to organize everything after coming out of a three-day writing coma.

And when I finally run out of steam — or decide to seriously pursue the story — I return to the container method to fill in the gaps.

This is how I finally started finishing drafts successfully.

Once I understood this process, I finished not one, but three rough drafts in six months.

Because I already had the ideas.

I just needed containers to hold them.

If you’re looking for a way to build those containers, check out my Story Grid. It’s a pre-built parking lot with scenes, beats, and full novel structure already in place.

The grid was designed specifically with romantasy in mind and includes a modified, extended beat sheet to help you figure out where your story pieces belong.

Being A Pantser

Doesn’t mean you can’t plan.

It doesn’t mean you’re disorganized or “bad” at outlining.

It’s simply the way you create. And honestly? That process is magical.

You don’t have to force yourself into someone else’s method.

You just need a process that works with the way your creativity naturally moves.

Keep being magical, my little pantser.

Now let’s finish some drafts.