Every book is a journey, from the copyright pages to the acknowledgments. It could be a literal journey, a fictional hero traveling great distances to accomplish their goal like Frodo or Odysseus. Others are more cerebral, characters going on an internal journey of self-reflection and discovery. Nonfiction can take us on real, historical journeys or entice the reader into a journey of learning and growing. No matter what book you pick up, there’s an adventure somewhere. The reader’s job is to experience the journey; the author’s is to be their guide.

Before the author can guide anyone anywhere, they need to venture on a journey of their own: writing. Authors can’t guide readers along a path if they haven’t forged it first. To do so, they’ll need all the pathfinding tools at their disposal: characters, plot, setting, the works. Even then, finding their way from their idea-sparked Beginning to the inevitable End is no easy task; there is no one way to write a book. Each person will have a different process, unique only to themselves, that can keep them writing long enough to reach their destination. The best way to find out what method works for you is to ask yourself how you approach multi-step tasks: Do you cook with a recipe, or do you improvise with the ingredients in your fridge? Do you clean your house as you move, or do you do one room at a time? While these questions might give you clues about how your brain works, the best question to ask when writing a book is: When going on a road trip, do you have an itinerary, or do you let the wind guide you?

Authors typically fall into one of two camps: Planners, the writers who go into their journey with a road map or an itinerary; or Explorers, the writers who go in with nothing but an idea and some inspiration. Both find ways to lead us through exciting stories, but they approach their work in completely different ways. Knowing which method works for you can save your story from stalling on the side of an unknown highway with a flat tire. 

Planners, sometimes called Architects or Outliners, never leave home without a schedule. Their road trip plans have detailed lists of where they’ll be stopping, how long it’ll take to get from Point A to Point B, and every sight they want to see on the way. Similarly, when writing, Planners always have an outline. All their characters, settings, and plot points will be settled before pen ever touches paper, the ending figured out well in advance. This has clear benefits: hitting every stop along the way with little-to-no worries about how you’ll get there keeps your foot on the gas. Knowing the next steps means writer’s block is rarely an issue. First drafts come quick, edits are easy, and the path they’ve paved for their readers is smooth. Brandon Sanderson, a famous Planner, pumps out an insane level of books with this method, the story beats planned ahead of time to ease the writing process. Authors of detective stories or mystery novels are often Planners as well, needing to be sure they drop the right clues in the right places over the reader’s journey to ensure a satisfying reveal. 

If you’ve ever road-tripped with a Planner, though, you’ll know the downfalls. The Planner’s biggest problem is inflexibility- if the schedule should get out of whack, or the characters have evolved to the point where story beats no longer make sense, the whole trip can fly off the rails. Worse yet, should the story go exactly as planned but is not executed well, the book’s journey can become a predictable slideshow of scenes, beat after beat railroading the reader to an unsurprising, unsatisfying end. A Planner must be careful not to allow the outline to overtake the novel, or the book will feel less like an adventure and more like an “adventure ride” at Disneyland.

“Exciting” isn’t an issue for Explorers. Explorers, also known as Gardeners or Pantsers (as in, “flying by the seat of your pants”), have a spontaneity that allows their story to grow and act the way it chooses to, not the way the plot dictates it should. With no outline and no preconceived notions of how the trip might end, the writer is free to play, going down dirt side roads, eating in local dive bars, taking a turn and not knowing where the road might lead. This makes for a gripping journey for the reader, the twists and turns unexpected and fresh, the road not well-traveled. A little bit of wildness allows for new ideas, new ways of thinking, new formats or voices to write in. One of the most famous Explorers, Stephen King, is known for not knowing how his books end. He starts with an idea, usually a single scene, and builds a narrative around it, his lack of plan allowing for the twists and turns of horror to surprise you. Being a Horror Explorer has made him one of the most well-known authors in the world. 

There are drawbacks to Exploring. Looking at Stephen King or another famous Explorer, George R. R. Martin, can illuminate the trouble: a satisfying end can be difficult to manufacture when the novel doesn’t have a through-line. With the amount of work King puts out, he has quite a few with lackluster ends. Martin, on the other hand, can’t end his work- I’ll eat my hat if we ever see Winds of Winter because the man has written himself into a very public, very obvious corner. This leads us to the next issue with Exploring: writer’s block. Allowing your characters and plot freedom can lead to interesting places, but not all places can allow the book to continue. Should a character be stuck in a situation or mindset the author can’t resolve, the book is dead in the water without rewrites. Explorers tend to have several abandoned works, their road trips only half done, but their gas tank empty.

These two writing methods, or two ways to plan a road trip, clearly are at extreme ends of the spectrum. How many people do you know don’t plan anything before stepping out their front door? How many people do you know try to control everything down to the minute on a trip? There is always a spectrum and a middle ground somewhere. Sanderson, a Planner, only plans his overall story beats- he allows his characters to grow, change, and do things he didn’t expect throughout the novel. Martin, an Explorer, has an end in mind and an idea of where each character needs to be for that end to work. Half of the writer’s journey is discovering what parts of the path need to be settled before you start and which parts are open to interpretation. A mixed approach may be your best bet in keeping your book on track instead of stalling out.

No matter how you start your journey, the fun lies in how you choose to get to your destination. Look to the Planners and Explorers for ideas and guidance, but don’t feel beholden to one extreme or the other. Once the path is laid (and you will get there!), grab some snacks from the gas station, put on a playlist, and let your reader hop in. You’ve made this awesome road trip for them- time to take them along.