Sculpting Narratives: My Journey as a Pantser Writer

I consider myself a pantser. That means when I start writing, I have an overall vision of what I want to achieve, but much of the planning occurs as that vision is hammered out on my computer. I feel like a sculptor, who sees promise in a misshapen slab and starts chiseling away, searching for the ideal version that exists somewhere inside. I can feel when I’m getting closer or further away, but I cannot be satisfied until I chip away all excess and hone that shape and form wanting to come to life.

I’ll write something, and even as I am writing it, I feel it’s not as it should be or something is missing.

Then, I see a circle. The first half is one arc of the circle, and the second half should mirror, echo, complete the first, like a bracelet latching together.

Chiseling “Legend of Blackwick”

Currently, I am chipping away at the slab that wants to be Legend of Blackwick. There is an ideal version of it that I am seeking as I probe closer and closer to the center. I have the first half of the circle, but I’m hopping back and forth between the second half and the first half to make sure they make a perfect fit at the end.

It won’t be perfect, of course. Perfection is unattainable in this mortal sphere. But I keep reaching close as I can to that ideal version. Like a limit in calculus that can only get arbitrarily close to 0, but then springs up to infinity.