Planner or pantster? It’s a very important question, both for professional writers and for those learning the trade (which probably means anyone from about the age of 9 upwards: anyone, that is, who’s reached the point where mastery of the physical act of making marks on paper is taken for granted and the emphasis shifts to composition and effect.)
Novice writers are always exhorted to make a plan. Some teachers go so far as to specify the type of plan that should be used – spidergram, bulleted list, mindmap, flowchart and so on – whilst others resort to a plaintive, “I don’t mind how you plan as long as you actually have one!” The basic idea seems to be that any young writer who hasn’t organised content in advance of writing full sentences is doomed to failure.
Does this hold up in the real world (insofar as the world inhabited by professional writers can be said to be real)? Up to a point. Some successful writers plan methodically, even obsessively. David Baboulene’s The Story Book refuses even to entertain the idea of beginning a draft of a novel until a “step outline” has been written – and this outline can be nearly as long as the book itself. Other writers simply jot down an idea of how to get a bunch of characters to face a major problem and then they’re away: for them, part of the appeal of writing is the joy of discovery along the way. They’ll probably end up doing a lot more rewriting to correct faulty plot lines or meandering byways that the story unhelpfully took them along, but that goes with the territory. (For an example of this approach, try David Hewson’s Writing: a user manual)
Writing in the GCSE English examination means writing non fiction. It’s generally writing to argue, persuade, describe or inform and the topics tend to be fairly uninspiring, since they have to be socially, politically and ethnically neutral as well as touching on areas that 16 year olds might know something about. In the AQA version of the exam, there are two writing tasks, known as the “shorter” and the “longer”. The “shorter” is aptly named: the recommended time for it is 25 minutes. Nevertheless, students are generally expected to plan: “5 minutes’ planning, 5 minutes’ checking. That leaves you 15 minutes to produce 3 or 4 quality paragraphs!” (The more astute amongst my readers will have noticed that this is paragraph 4 of this piece. So far it has taken me half an hour.)
Is there any research showing that planned answers score more highly than unplanned ones in English examinations? Probably not – and even if there was, it would doubtless be inconclusive.
But here’s a thought: it’s actually impossible for the human mind to write any sort of extended piece without doing some sort of categorising and sorting. It’s just the way our brains work, making connections between ideas and putting them into some sort of logical order. In fact, it would be harder for most students to write a completely disjointed piece in 25 minutes than simply to let one idea lead on naturally to the next. So perhaps we should give up insisting that all young writers must be planners by default, and encourage the “seat of the pants approach” as more likely to produce high quality results.