Tasty Morsels for Writers
I hated planning. I wrote because I wanted to write. I wanted to feel the excitement of the story unfolding as I wrote it. This way of writing is called ‘pantsing’, cause you are doing it by the seat of your pants. I was a ‘panther’ all the way.
Then I had a kid.
Welcome to the world of 5 minute blocks of time, sleepless nights, and a brain that cannot remember what I wrote two sentences ago, let alone a whole novel.
Why is this, you ask? It can’t be because of baby brain, cause they’ve proved that doesn’t exist (hahaha). It can’t be because having a child makes you stand back and look at the bigger picture, because nothing will clutter your brain with more detail than having a kid.
It’s puzzled me, and so I’ve thought long and hard and feel I’ve come up with the answer. And the answer is this:
When you have a child, you have no pants.
You have forgotten to wear pants. Your pants have spew on them. Your pants no longer fit. Probably all of the above.
Those days of panting are gone. Now I have no pants. Not that I can fit into, anyway.
And so, pantsless, I have had to find new ways to write while juggling life, the universe, and everything. Some method where you can pick up and put down my story in short bursts, and add meaning while sleep deprived and in between trying to explain why blue is a colour and weeing in the toilet is a good idea. Necessity may be the mother of invention, and it seems to me that mothering* creates the necessity of invention.
So, yeah. I outline because I have no pants.