Plotter or Panster? Stephen Puleston

Plotter or Panster? Stephen Puleston

There’s a certain romance attached to the idea of an author at work. We picture the dimly lit study, a wall of scribbled notes and photographs, the author hammering out twists and red herrings in a single inspired rush. But the reality, at least for me, is a little less glamorous and a lot more deliberate. Writing a crime novel is as much about patience and process as it is about sudden flashes of inspiration.

Plotting the Crime

I’ve not always been a plotter. When I first started, I had this notion that being too structured could stifle creativity. But as I have written more over the years, I found the opposite is true – I can be creative at the plotting stage as well as during the writing stage.

Before I even open the document that becomes the first draft, I have sketches of characters and possible motives. Crime fiction, perhaps more than any other genre, demands a sense of structure. Readers expect logic. If the murderer couldn’t possibly have been in the conservatory at midnight, they’ll spot it straight away. So I plan in advance: not only who did it and why, but also when each clue is dropped and how suspicion shifts from one character to another.

That doesn’t mean everything is fixed. I like to think of my outline as the scaffolding around a building. It’s there to enable the book to be written. The details of the architecture—the cracks in a suspect’s marriage, the unexpected courage of a minor character—often emerge only once I’m writing. Sometimes, halfway through, a side character insists on stepping forward and complicating everything. And often the identity of the killer can change, or an unexpected twist suggests itself.

There are many books to help the aspiring author with plotting and structure. As authors we never stop learning so read as many as you can.

The First Draft

Too many writers freeze at the thought of imperfection. They polish Chapter One for months and never move on. My advice is always the same: get something down. Words on the page can be fixed; a blank page cannot. The advantage of careful planning is the ability to get a better first draft.

Editing: Where the Magic Happens

Editing is where a novel begins to resemble the book you imagined. It’s also where the importance of outside eyes comes in. I go through several stages:

  1. Structural Edit – Does the plot hold together? Are there gaps in the timeline, or characters who disappear for too long? Does the revelation of the killer make sense, and more importantly, does it satisfy?
  2. Line Edit – Once the bones of the story are in place, I look at the writing itself. Crime fiction thrives on pace. Every unnecessary word is a chance for tension to slip away. I use the Read Aloud function in Word to catch awkward phrasing, clichés, or dialogue that doesn’t ring true.
  3. Proofreading – Typos are sneaky criminals. No matter how carefully you check, one will always escape. That’s why professional proofreading is invaluable. A fresh pair of eyes will spot what the writer no longer can.

And here’s the crucial thing: no one gets it right the first time.

The Reader as Detective

One of the pleasures of crime writing is knowing that your reader is working alongside you, weighing every clue and motive. Editing ensures that the story has just enough information to be solvable, but not so much that the ending feels obvious. It’s a balancing act, and it’s achieved not by brilliance on a first draft, but by careful revision.

Why Proofreading Matters

A misspelled word or a missing comma can yank a reader straight out of the story. Imagine being on the edge of your seat during a dramatic reveal, only to be distracted by a typo. Suddenly, the illusion is broken.

In crime fiction especially, details matter. Readers will notice if a character’s name changes spelling halfway through or if a clue is mentioned on page 50 and vanishes by page 200. A good proofreader is as vital to your team.

Writing as Rewriting

When I began writing, I thought the goal was to finish a draft. Now I understand that finishing a draft is just the start. The real craft of writing lies in the rewriting: cutting the unnecessary, sharpening the dialogue, layering in the clues and red herrings so that when the final reveal comes, the reader nods: “Of course—it was there all along.”

That effect doesn’t happen by accident. It’s constructed, tested, and refined. It relies on meticulous planning and ruthless editing.

A Final Word

If you’re just starting out, here’s my encouragement: don’t be afraid of a messy first draft. Embrace it. But then, once you’ve written it, have the courage to tear it apart and build it again. Editing is not an admission of failure. It is the process. Proofreading is not a luxury. It is respect—for your craft, and for your readers.


Read more about Stephen Pulseston here.

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