To Plot or Not

How 4 pulp fiction masters approached their stories

Nothing divides fiction writers on the internet faster than the question of plotting vs. discovery writing (I’m not using “pantsing” because it sounds like too much of a sissy term, especially for gritty pulp authors). Some writers plan their plots, at least to some extent, prior to beginning their manuscripts. Others prefer to dive right in and make stuff up as they go along. I’ve used both methods. But what matters most is whether the writer delivers a compelling story and enjoys the process of creating it. Many writers online treat their method as a religion and will gladly be a martyr for their cause. In the end, all that matters is what method works for your story.

I researched a handful of my favorite paperback writers to learn as much as I could about their writing process. What I found was unsurprising. Like contemporary writers, some of these guys plotted and some of them didn’t.

Here’s what I found:

Louis L’Amour approached storytelling with a deep respect for historical accuracy and structure. He was a dedicated researcher who built his plots on a foundation of facts. L’Amour studied maps, journals, and firsthand accounts to ensure his settings and scenarios felt authentic. While he rarely used formal written outlines, he often carried a complete story in his head before ever typing a word. He visualized scenes, sequences, and resolutions with great clarity, letting the narrative unfold smoothly during the drafting stage. For L’Amour, planning was essential. It wasn’t to limit spontaneity, but to build a world that readers could fully believe in.

L’Amour’s study, where he wrote, contained zillions of books and maps he used for research to prepare for his novels.

Raymond Chandler was a methodical craftsman who plotted his stories with care, but in his own idiosyncratic way. Rather than rigid outlines, Chandler used index cards and scene fragments to piece together the skeleton of a mystery. He focused on atmosphere, theme, and the rhythm of dialogue as much as the plot itself. Chandler’s process allowed room for improvisation within a structured framework, but he didn’t start blind. His stories were driven by mood and character first, with the plot gradually built to support them. He was deliberate, revising heavily and constantly reshaping until the pieces fit.

Jim Thompson, by contrast, avoided plotting entirely. He was a discovery writer who let his stories unravel on the page as they occurred to him. He wrote quickly, often completing novels in a matter of weeks, driven by voice, emotion, and momentum. Thompson’s fiction had a raw, chaotic energy that may have came from this freewheeling approach. He trusted his subconscious to do the heavy lifting and rarely planned more than a basic premise. This process led to unpredictable narratives and deeply psychological characters, often revealing the darkest corners of his imagination without the safety net of a predefined structure.

John D. MacDonald also leaned into discovery, though with a more measured, practical discipline. He didn’t outline in advance but trusted his instincts to shape the story as he wrote. MacDonald believed writing was a muscle developed through repetition, and he treated it like a job, writing long hours every day. He didn’t always know where a story was going, but he knew how to get there. His narratives were built on strong pacing and character-driven tension, honed through sheer volume of practice. Revision played a role, but much of the structure came together naturally in the drafting process.

There you have it. If you’re a writer of any level of experience, it can’t hurt to try to mimic any of these masters of pulp fiction. Try them out and see which methods, or combination of methods, works best for you.