Of Plotters, Pantsers, and Magical Mayhem - Otherwise Known as My Writing Process :-)

Let me tell you a tale. Not one of haunted teapots or talking Papillon dogs (although Pixie would like a word), but of the realest mystery of all: how on earth I write books.

You see, I used to be what we in the wild world of writing call a “pantser.” That’s right. No outline. No plan. No safety net. Just me, a cup of coffee, a keyboard, and a deeply misplaced confidence that the story would figure itself out.

And for a long time, that worked.
After all, I write about magic. My characters talk to ghosts, solve murders with help from enchanted pets, and navigate small-town charm with a sprinkle of witchiness. If ever there were stories that wanted to make their own decisions, it’s mine. Half the time, I’m just along for the ride while my characters whisper, “Step aside, mortal. We’ve got this.”

But now? I’m on book eight of the Magical Papillon Mysteries. Six. That’s practically a small town of books.

And let me tell you—by the time your characters have investigated a half-dozen homicides, formed friendships, flirted (with varying degrees of success), and adopted magical sidekicks, you need a system. You need to remember who was where, when, and why.
Because trust me, if you don’t?
Readers will.

They’ll remember that in book two, Aunt Ruby claimed she hated lavender scones, and now in book six she’s opening a lavender scone bakery.
Continuity, my friends. It’s real. And it’s watching you. 👀

So, with great reluctance—and the desperate wails of a pantser being dragged into the light—I’ve begun… plotting.
Not the villain kind. (Although maybe...)

No, I mean the kind where you map out chapters, draw little boxes with arrows, and say things like “Act 2 midpoint twist” while your dog looks at you with deep concern. (Pixie, it’s fine. You’re still the star.)

Now, I don’t believe in plotting everything. There still has to be room for the magic to come in. That’s what I call those unexpected moments where your character does something so brilliant and surprising that you sit back and go, “Well. I didn’t see that coming.”
I live for those moments. That’s why I write.

But now I also live for the joy of seeing how all the pieces click together. When the breadcrumbs I scattered (by accident, obviously) back in chapter three suddenly become pivotal in chapter twenty. When readers say, “I didn’t see that twist coming but it makes total sense.”
Plotting lets me do that on purpose. What a concept.

So here I am, a former pantser with a plotting app, a wall of post-its, and a spreadsheet that might just be alive.
Do I still sometimes write wildly off-course and then have to backtrack three chapters like a cartoon character realizing they’ve walked off a cliff?
Absolutely.
But now I know which cliff.

And that’s progress.

Whether you’re a plotter, a pantser, or a writer who consults horoscopes to decide your next chapter (no judgment), just remember this:
There’s no one right way to write a story.
Just make space for the magic.
And for goodness' sake, write down your character’s favorite food. You’ll thank yourself in book eight.

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