Hats pulled snug down over their curly, straight, blonde, dark, red hair, the writers scratched and scribbled in their notebooks, filling them with graphite and ink, painstakingly selected–or not– most legible, some barely- mapping out worlds on, above, and below where their feet tread. Soon, plots emerged from five squares, mountains, and lines of time starring angels rescuing Greek maidens, futuristic, dysfunctional families with absentee fathers, and laboratory explosions yielding zombies ripe for devouring human prey.
Urged on, they reluctantly made two versions to grab their readers with snappy dialogue, startling statements, dynamic description and emotion-filled action. Which is better, they pondered. Which should I use? Yes, themes are clear, and yes, their characters wrestle inner turmoil as they discover new powers, battle for their space in the universe or are left behind after the victory. Today, drafting is almost finished by these planner/pantsers: they’re riding a wave of inspired revision as their fingers tap, tap, tap across the keyboards. They’re in the moment– in the Zone.
Now, they must Glow-Up their creations–upgrade the diction, find just the right synonym that extends an arm around their readers and urges them along on the adventure, too. Finally, they’ll wrap their new package in the shiny paper of conventions to prove its value to those who care about such things. But for now, they adjust their hats and plod on, their fingers tapping and snicking on their various devices, these passionate, precocious young writers. The deadline looms.
