We Writers Often Categorize Ourselves As Plotters Or Pantsers, Based On How Much Of Our Story We Prefer

We writers often categorize ourselves as “plotters” or “pantsers”, based on how much of our story we prefer to outline before we begin writing actual scenes. As I consider my writing process, I’m beginning to think this framework isn’t very useful for describing how I turn my ideas into a full-fledged story. But I think I’ve discovered a more useful way to frame this difference. Instead of “plotter vs. pantser”, consider: are you a deductive storyteller or an inductive storyteller?

Deductive reasoning starts with general premises and draws specific conclusions. In a similar way, deductive storytellers start with general concepts and work their way down to specific details.The Snowflake Method is the purest form of deductive storytelling–you start with the most basic overview, and at each level, you add more details and get more specific, until you wind up with a first draft.

To a deductive storyteller, the overarching framework is necessary in order to develop the small details. For example, if I were writing deductively, I’d decide that Suzie is a brave character, and then write scenes that show Suzie’s bravery. I’d also needs to figure out the steps of the plot before coming up with the details of any specific scene–I’d need to know that Suzie will argue with Dave so I can set up the tension that will lead to that scene. The big picture needs to come first, and any necessary details can be logically drawn from this framework.

In contrast, inductive reasoning starts with specific data and draws general conclusions. Therefore, inductive storytelling starts with specific details of a scene, and from that, draws general conclusions about the characters, plot, and setting. This type of writer aligns more closely with the “pantser” end of the spectrum, and is likely to get more ideas from writing scenes than from writing an outline.

An inductive storyteller needs to write out scenes, and use the small details in the prose to figure out broader facts about the plot, characters, and setting. For example, if I were writing inductively, I might write a scene in which Suzie was the only person in her party to enter a haunted house without hesitation. From this, I’d determine that Suzie was brave, and would use this insight to inform Suzie’s behavior in future scenes.  I’d also use the details of early scenes to figure out the next logical steps of my plot. For example, Suzie and Dave are having tense interactions across multiple scenes, so it’s logical that it will erupt into an argument in the next scene. The small details have to come first, so they can be combined logically to draw larger conclusions about the story.

This framework has given me insight into why I write the way I do. The “plotter vs. pantser” argument is generally framed as “do you get bored if you know the story beforehand”? But the difference goes much deeper than that–it ties into which method of story building feels more logical to you. I find that detailed outlines often destroy my stories. I might have a plot plan and character sheets that work extremely well in summary form, but I find I can’t use those big pictures to extrapolate the small details I need for a scene–the resulting story feels vague and artificial. It works much better if I write at least a few scenes first–see the characters interacting in their environment–and then dig deeper into what those details tell me about my characters, plot, and setting so I can further develop the story. Other people might find that they can’t come up with useful details unless they know the larger picture. Neither way is better–it just depends on your preferred storytelling strategy.

Obviously, writers will fall on a spectrum somewhere between these two extremes. But I feel that the “inductive vs. deductive” terminology is a more useful distinction than plain old “plotter vs. pantser”. The important thing isn’t whether you outline, but why an outline may or may not help you create the story you want to tell.

What are some ways to speed up or slow down a scene?

On a basic level, speed is all relevant to word count. The amount of space it takes on a page to convey an idea (whether it be dialogue, description, or anything else) mimics “real time focus”. More words, more time; fewer words, less time. All the methods of altering scene pacing essentially come back to that rule in some way. 

Speed up:

Tell, don’t show (AKA summarize). Telling isn’t always bad, in fact it’s kind of required to be able to skip over the boring parts of any story. It’s possible to mix telling into a scene to glaze over certain parts, but you want to be careful to make sure that you couldn’t just be scene breaking instead.

Get to the point. Setting the scene is important, but for any “faster” scene you want to keep the focus on the events and the plot. Take out (or just don’t write) anything that repeats what’s already been brought to attention. 

Use shorter sentences and/or paragraphs. This tip is weird because you should still be varying the length of your sentences and paragraphs, but any fast-paced scene doesn’t need any extended narration. Yes, you’re sacrificing detail, but as long as it’s not necessary detail then it’s usually okay. 

Slow Down: 

Show, don’t tell. Spend some time really creating concrete images in the reader’s mind, as long as it makes sense to include that level of detail within the scene. Description is all relative to the narrator and what they pay attention to, so someone putting all of their focus on a phone call is not going to be describing their surroundings in detail. (Though you could use the description to show that they’re not focusing on the call.) 

Insert some character thought. Nobody needs a monologue, but some thought now and then can show characterization and add some flavor. You just don’t want it to repeat anything obvious or that has already been made clear– it should enhance the story not make it redundant.  

Add meaningful roadblocks and pauses. Life is very rarely as simple as “event happens smoothly”, so a story should reflect that. It’s just important to remember that those obstacles need meaning; they should show something about the setting, characters, or plot. You can write an argument as a simple back-and-forth of dialogue, or you can take some time to give the argument pause and describe how the characters are physically acting in the silence. 

Good luck with your scene pacing!

types of people - natural disasters

tag yourself!

tsunami - tears at 2am, the feel of rain on the skin, probably an idealist, quartz crystals, bad at expressing emotions, green plants, prioritizes others

earthquake - hugging an old friend, philosophical, warm summer nights, very stubborn, honeyed figs, wants to be some kind of designer, fresh oj

hurricane - dark jeans, mysterious smiles, a double espresso, kind of exhausted, old newspapers, difficult to read, vanilla, always unapologetic

wildfire - bruised knuckles, likes dark romances, pancakes with syrup, afraid of being alone, blushing, pulling your hands through your hair, marlboro 100′s

tornado - expensive headphones, can’t relax, changing hair colors, polaroid photos, nervous twitches, watching marvel movies all night, city lights

A Twitter rant about worldbuilding fictional ancient civilisations. (I really have a beef with the Atlantis tv show sorry yall)

Vietnam’s Newly Opened Pedestrian Bridge Lifts Visitors with a Pair of Giant Weathered Hands

Faroe Islands