Authors talk about this in every author group I belong to – a plotter is someone who plots the outline of a story, knows the characters and where they’re going and even knows the ending, whereas a pantser “writes by the seat of their pants”, sits at their computer each day and waits for the magic to happen.

I’ve thought on this often and have decided that I’m a bit of both.  I do have vivid ideas for a story, I know where I want it to go and how it will end.  All of which makes me a plotter.

But!  When I sit at my laptop my characters are inclined to take over and often the story goes in a completely different direction to where I thought it was going. This happened to me a lot during the writing of the Madeleine series and I often sat back in surprise when something happened that I wasn’t expecting.  Some scenes I ended up deleting, most I kept.

So yes, I am a bit of both, although maybe more of a pantser.  I can finish several hours work then walk away from my laptop with no idea what happened nor where I go next, my carefully thought out plot now useless.  Although I think that makes writing all the more fun!

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This is another historical romance, set in the American west around 1850 although unlike the Madeleine series, this book won’t have fantasy in it, just for a change.

And as this book is still a work in progress, the excerpt here might change. But here you go.

She burst through the kitchen door, her glorious auburn hair hanging long and loose to her waist, the pins that held it in place lost when she rode the horse hard across the fields. Her skirt and petticoat hung in untidy folds about her legs, her boots were muddy and scrapped and bits of dirt were splashed across her face, marking that flawless complexion while her pale green eyes stared in bewilderment at the man sitting at Martha’s kitchen table. He stumbled to his feet, knocking the table, his eyes wide with astonishment at the vision of her as she stepped into the room, yet as she held his eyes, dark and fathomless in a face that was young, yet worn, yet utterly beautiful, something about him made her stop and be still. Then she took a step towards him, drawn to him, before Martha stepped in front of her, coming between them, ready to scold her for her untidy appearance.

There’ll be another excerpt in my newsletter due out 26th May, plus more

I saw these really cool paintings in a cafe where I met some friends for lunch.  I don’t know who the artist is, but I had to share them.