The Novice Pantser

It’s not always obvious when your purpose is revealed to you.

I have spent my life doing sensible, but unremarkable things for a living. Banking. Retail. Hospitality. Marketing. Accounts. (Still awake?)

None of them brought me joy, but then again, I’d never really thought they should. I always looked at work as something you did to fund the things you loved. I was never one of those people that urge you to ‘Pursue your Passion’ and ‘Live Your Best Life’ (Unless that passion is cheese. Then yes. Pursue it).

But deep in the secret parts of my soul, I think I always wanted to do something more. I’ve been a student for a very long time. For my first degree I studied PR (for the glamorous employment prospects), and English Literature as a Minor (for pleasure, and probably to impress people). I never worked a day in the industry I majored in.

Money well spent. Two thumbs up.

Around six years ago, I returned to study, this time Graphic Design. It was relevant to my marketing job at the time, and I thought upskilling was a sensible idea. I wondered if I could quit my job and go and work for some design company in a cool office with a pinball machine. I really liked the outfits. I was pretty sure I could rock a slogan tee, stretch skinnies and Vans. However, I realised after two years that I absolutely hated working in marketing (so many meetings), and that it was most definitely NOT GRAPHIC DESIGN. I moved to the accounts department of the same company (#adminlife) but continued studying. I loved it. Particularly the illustration aspects of design. But I really couldn’t see myself working full time in that cool graphic design office of my dreams - my ironic banter would never be up to scratch.

A chance subject swap to make up some credits saw me undertake a creative writing unit. I’d loved writing at school, and had been widely celebrated by no less than, count them, THREE English teachers! Impressive, I know. Plowing into this university unit, my love for creating stories returned with a vengeance. I took an unlocking creativity course with the Writers Studio over a semester break last year, and after hitting send on my final subject of my degree just a few weeks ago, immediately signed up to the Creative Writing 30 Day Bootcamp with the Writers Centre Australia.

I’m hooked. Absolutely obsessed. After just a couple of weeks (21 days to be exact), I’m gagging to get on the computer each day to churn out the word count that has been set for the novel I am writing.

Yes. A NOVEL.

It is, quite possibly, the worst book ever written. Or maybe it’s the best. I don’t care, so don’t judge. I’ve decided to call myself a novelist, despite having only written a few chapters of a first draft. I’ve jumped in, all guns blazing, joining several writers associations. I’ve also started researching which writers festivals I’m going to be presenting my fascinating literary talks at. I’ve started an Instagram for my writing fans to follow. On the To Do list - one of those cool professional writer’s profile pictures where I’m sitting pensively in my worn but expensive leather Eames recliner, tapping my glasses against my mouth thoughtfully as I read an important tome.

I just need an Eames chair.

And a tome.

I have the glasses already!

It’s important to prepare.

Well, no. Turns out I’m not a Preparer. I’m a Pantser. A writer who writes by the seat of their pants. I have a very vague idea of the end of the book, but even that is not set in stone. I’m loving the way the character and the story are revealed with each tap of the keys. It’s like I’m a reader of my own brain. It’s so existential.

What this means, though, is that the book, as it currently stands, makes zero sense. I have no outline to refer to, so I’m possibly taking giant illogical leaps from place to person to person to place. Sounds good, yes? No? Some people have no imagination.

I’m assuming I’ll have to do some sort of structural edit before it gets sent to the publisher (who will think it’s brilliant and give me a $100,00 advance and a three book deal). But more on that later. For now, I’m concentrating on creating.

What’s really important isn’t how good this book is going to be.

What’s really important is that I’ve found a passion for something. A purpose. Something to work at and perfect.

I might even get a ‘Follow Your Passions’ tea towel.