I’ve read books and listened to authors talk about whether they’re “plotters” or “pantsers.” Plotters meticulously build their worlds and often know exactly how the book ends. They have everything figured out—from the protagonist’s daily caloric intake to the antagonist’s bathroom habits. That’s some serious preparation!

Pantsers, on the other hand, sit down at the keyboard and just start writing. I have to admit, that sounds kind of freeing. My fear, though, is that I’ll write the first ten chapters only to realize I lost the reader back in chapter three. Still, one day I’ll give it a try—just so I can say I’ve done it.

Personally, I lean more toward the plotter method—with a twist. I like to know how my story ends before I begin, kind of like plugging a destination into my map app before a road trip. But once I’m on the road, I don’t always stick to the planned route. If something interesting pops up —an idea, a character moment, or a bit of worldbuilding—I want the freedom to pull over and explore it. My final destination (the end of the book) is still in sight. I know where I’m going. I just prefer to take the scenic route to get there.

And honestly, I take the scenic route a lot.

When I’m introducing new characters or crafting emotional moments, I often find myself drifting away from the outline. Sometimes the story just needs a different touch in the moment. But even when I wander, I always know where I need to get back to. The protagonist still needs to be in a specific place at a specific time for the plot to work.

Worldbuilding is one of my favorite parts of writing. Creating the rules, cultures, and history of a world is like laying the foundation of everything else. Outlining helps me explore that world in depth and start shaping the mythology behind it.

But here’s a word of caution: worldbuilding can wreck your writing momentum if you’re not careful. It’s easy to fall into the trap of overdevelopment. Readers probably won’t care as much as you do about the indigenous giant leaping toads on Planet Froggy. They’re unlikely to wonder how those toads got there, why their leader has a scar, or why they live on a planet named Froggy when they’re actually toads.

Don’t get me wrong—shaping your world is important. You need to care deeply about it. But you also need to know which details to keep to yourself. That’s part of the balancing act we writers face. So much imagination, so little space on the page. (And no, massive info dumps are not the answer.)

I love planning. I love worldbuilding. I love creating the fantastic. But I can’t stay in that mode forever. If I do, the book will never get written. In my current series, The Seasons of Darkness, I spent months building the world. Eventually, though, I had to say, “Enough. If I don’t start writing this story, it’s just going to sit on my computer and no one will ever read it.”

Every writer has their own way of getting from page one to “The End.” Some need the structure of a detailed map. Others just jump in and go. Some, like me, want a destination but aren’t afraid to take a few backroads on the way.

So how do you write? Are you a plotter, a pantser, or someone who takes the scenic route?