Weaving Your Story Arc Into Being
Every writer eventually runs into the same question, whether they name it out loud or not: Am I doing this right?
In fiction circles, this question often takes the form of a debate—plotter versus discovery writer, outliner versus pantser—as if storytelling were a matter of choosing sides. But this debate often misses something essential. It assumes that story structure only exists on the page—when, in reality, many writers carry the story arc internally long before it ever becomes an outline.
Most stories aren’t built from rigid plans or total chaos. They’re sensed, glimpsed, imagined, and slowly woven into being—sometimes on the page, sometimes in the mind, sometimes in places we don’t yet have words for. Whether you plan meticulously or write by instinct, every story unfolds along a journey. The difference lies not in whether we plot, but in how we discover the plot.
If you’ve ever felt caught between structure and intuition, between planning and trusting what wants to emerge, you’re not alone. This essay is an invitation to look more closely at how you already find your story’s arc—and to recognize the quiet intelligence guiding your process.
Finding Your Story Arc: Plotting vs Intuitive Writing
Whether you outline extensively or discover the story as you write, every writer develops a story arc—the difference lies in how that arc is discovered.
“Plotters” are those who plan and outline before they write, whereas “discovery” writers have little to no written plan. Both methods are valid and useful, and are actually on a spectrum rather than a dichotomy. What you use depends on your writing style, strengths, and what you are writing.
When I first started writing stories years ago, I was purely a discovery writer, sometimes called a pantser. This term is a shortened version of “flying by the seat of your pants.” I didn’t write any sort of outline. I simply sat at my computer and started typing.
As the story evolved, I could envision the story arc, the major plot points, the conflict, the ending, and the story structure.
That, my friends, is plotting.
Every story, fiction or nonfiction, has a plot, a story arc, that takes the reader—and the character—on a journey. Some writers find the story plot through meticulous outlining; others through an intuitive sense of story. It doesn’t matter how you discover the plot for your story. It’s important that you find the method that works for you. Does it help or hinder your storytelling?
Story Structure Looks Different for Fiction and Nonfiction
Story structure for writers isn’t one-size-fits-all—fiction and nonfiction require different approaches to finding and shaping a story arc. The degree in which you outline may vary based on the type of writing you do. The method I use for my fantasy stories is different from what I use for my nonfiction books.
When I write fiction, I start by flying by the seat of my pants with a kernel of an idea. I need to write a scene or two, maybe a couple of chapters, to discover who my characters are and the theme of the story. This intuitive writing process allows the story’s arc to reveal itself organically, guided by imagination rather than a rigid outline.
After I know some basic information, I imagine the story and how it will unfold, writing plot guideposts I can follow as I write. These are usually one or two sentences, perhaps a paragraph. That’s the extent of my outlining.
But not the end of my plotting. I do most of that in my head.
However, my nonfiction books need extensive outlining. This helps me to discover the order of processes my reader needs to take to learn the skill or to experience their own self-transformation. An outline helps me define my ideal reader and the journey I’m guiding them on. When I’m done outlining, I have a working table of contents with the major topics listed and the subtopics I plan to cover. This guides my writing.
Any outline, whether for fiction or nonfiction, is a guide and a starting point for your writing. Every writer, once they begin to write, is discovering the story. They give their creativity and imagination free rein. As the story takes shape, it changes and morphs. The characters gain a life of their own and have their own opinions of how the story unfolds. Your first draft rarely matches your original outline. The exception is when your outline is so meticulous it’s actually your first draft.
Trust Is the Real Story Structure
In the end, the plotter-versus-pantser debate isn’t really about structure at all. It’s about trust.
Trusting that you’ll recognize the story as it unfolds. It’s trusting that your imagination knows where it’s going, even when you can’t yet see the whole path. Trusting that an outline—whether written or held quietly in your mind—is a guide, not a cage.
An outline can be a map. Intuition can be a compass. Sometimes you’ll use one more than the other, and sometimes you’ll use both at once. The story will change. Your characters will surprise you. What you thought you were writing will evolve into something truer.
That isn’t a failure. That’s the work.
All authors plot. We simply differ in how we discover the plot in our stories. Some do it on paper, while others do it in their thoughts, their intuition, their daydreams. Other authors plot as they write, discovering the shape of the story one sentence at a time.
There is no single correct way to weave a story arc into being. There is only the way that allows your creativity to breathe, deepen, and come alive on the page.
If this essay stirred questions about your own creative process, choose one or two of the prompts below and explore them without judgment. There are no right answers—only what’s true for you.
1. If you let go of labels like plotter or pantser, how would you describe your writing process in your own words? What metaphors, images, or sensations capture how you weave stories into being?
2. What writing “rules” or labels have you absorbed about your writing process that you believe you have to do? Where did they come from? As Becca Syme says, “Question the premise!” Do they actually serve your creativity, or constrain it? How would you write differently if they didn’t apply to you?
3. Reflect on where your story lives before it reaches the page and consider how you already “plot.” Do you write an outline, do one in your head, or some combination? Does this work for you, or are you doing it because that’s the ‘way writers plot’? Have you experimented with other ways of plotting or outlining? If you haven’t, I invite you to try different things to find what works for you.


