I have a confession to make. It’s been months since I’ve written anything worthwhile in any of my works-in-progress. Each story is plotted and I can clearly see every scene and ending, but the words to show my characters’ journeys have been more elusive than spotting a blind albino papermaker riding a three-legged flatulent horse.
This morning in my twilight sleep the answer to my dilemma finally came. I’m a pantser, not a plotter.
Since I know how these unwritten stories progress and end, they’ve lost their appeal. The movie in my mind stopped rolling the moment I reached the hero and heroine’s HEA. In my first 3 full manuscripts I had no idea what my characters were going to do until the moment my fingers struck the keys. Each story I write unfolds as if I’m viewing someone else’s life through a unique window to the past.
I feel so relieved to know where my muse went. Now I must scrap my plotted story premises and get on with “pantsering” my way to The End. I love my characters and can’t wait to see where they lead me.
Happy writing, y’all!