Plots or Pants?
Writers often find themselves falling into two camps when it comes to developing a story: plotters and pantsers. Plotters map out their stories ahead of time, often chapter by chapter, before writing a single scene. Pantsers, on the other hand, write “by the seat of their pants,” discovering the story as they go.
As someone who writes mystery novels, I’ve often felt the need to be a plotter. After all, a good mystery hinges on structure: red herrings, clues, reversals, and that all-important reveal. My early books were planned in meticulous detail before I began writing—each chapter sketched out, the twists and reveals mapped carefully like evidence on a corkboard. And yet, I’ve learned over time that even the best-laid plots can’t predict everything.
What I’ve come to appreciate is that stories are living things. You can plot every beat, but once you’re deep into the draft, characters start to push back. They do things you hadn’t expected. A minor moment blossoms into a turning point. Or a twist sneaks up on you—one you never saw coming, but suddenly feels inevitable.
In my earlier books, I used to resist these shifts. I felt obligated to stick to the plan, almost like I was betraying the story by deviating from the outline. But writing has taught me something important: sometimes the best twists are the ones that surprise the writer, too. The killer twist in Singapore Killer and the final chapter shock in Singapore Fire didn’t emerge until I was nearly at the end of each draft. They weren’t in the original outlines, but they elevated the stories in ways I couldn’t have planned.
That said, not every experiment has been smooth. For The Prisoner of Acre, I deliberately plotted less than usual. I had a strong opening and characters I believed in, but no detailed roadmap. The result? It took over a year to finish. There were days of frustration and dead ends. But there was also discovery, a sense of freedom—and, ultimately, the story found its shape. That novel went on to win the 2025 Page Turner Award for Best Action Adventure. Painful as the process was, it taught me that being flexible with structure can pay off.
Interestingly, I returned to thorough plotting for the first book in my new Philippines series—only to come away wishing I hadn’t. But that’s a story for another blog post.
In the end, I’ve come to believe that the plotter vs. pantser divide isn’t a binary. Most writers fall somewhere in between—planning just enough to feel grounded, while leaving room for spontaneity. For me, the mystery genre will always require some structure, but I’ve learned to leave the door open. Because sometimes the best ideas aren’t the ones we plan—but the ones that creep in when we least expect them.
Whether you outline every chapter or dive in with a whisper of an idea, the real magic is in staying curious—and listening when the story tries to tell you something new.