When I first set out to write my spy thriller, I thought I could just sit down at the keyboard, let the words pour out, and trust that the story would find its way. This method—known in the writing world as pantsing (as in, “writing by the seat of your pants”)—felt exciting at first. There’s a rush in not knowing what comes next, in letting your characters surprise you.
But in the high-stakes world of espionage fiction, I quickly learned something: thrillers thrive on precision. Twists, reveals, double-crosses—they don’t just “happen.” They require timing, layering, and structure. And after a few chaotic drafts that felt more like tangled webs than masterfully woven plots, I realized I couldn’t pants my way to a taut, suspenseful spy story.
I had to plot.
Why Pantsing Didn’t Work for Me
At first, I loved the freedom. I’d toss Ethan Parker (one of my central characters) into a dangerous situation and see how he’d claw his way out. Sometimes this led to brilliant, unexpected moments. But more often, I’d write myself into corners—scenes that contradicted earlier ones, reveals that lost impact because I hadn’t set them up properly, or subplots that fizzled into nothing.
Spy thrillers demand a different level of discipline. Every breadcrumb must lead somewhere. Every twist must be earned. Without a plan, I found myself backtracking constantly, trying to stitch together logic after the fact.
The Case for Plotting
Now, I outline obsessively. Not just the big beats, but nearly every detail. I map out who knows what at each point in the story, how secrets unravel, and where the tension spikes. For a thriller, this level of control isn’t restrictive—it’s liberating.
Plotting allows me to:
- Engineer suspense: I know exactly when to drop a clue and when to pull the rug out.
- Track character arcs: I can ensure each character evolves consistently, without contradictions.
- Balance pace: High-octane chase scenes need quiet, tense moments before and after. Outlining helps me create that rhythm.
When done right, plotting turns writing into a game of chess rather than chance.
My Hybrid Approach
That doesn’t mean I’ve lost all spontaneity. While I outline extensively, I still leave “wiggle room” inside scenes. Sometimes a character will deliver a line I hadn’t planned, or I’ll stumble on a surprising detail in the moment. But the roadmap keeps me grounded—it ensures those surprises enhance the story instead of derailing it.
Final Thoughts
In the plotting vs. pantsing debate, I learned the hard way that writing a spy thriller is less about freewheeling creativity and more about careful architecture. My weapon of choice is the outline—sharpened, detailed, and ready to cut through the fog of uncertainty.
Bonus trivia for readers:
- The first draft of my novel had an entirely different ending because I pantsed it. (I’ll let you guess what went wrong until I reveal it in a future article!)
- I keep a literal corkboard with strings connecting events and characters, very much like the conspiracy walls you see in spy shows.
- One scene in the final book started as a pantsed moment that worked so well, I reshaped the outline around it.
Want to see how I put this method to work?
Download The Catalogue today and experience a world built seamlessly into every twist, turn, and character choice.
