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What Writing 2 Books Taught Me

Mariana Vieira·
5 min read

Based on Mariana Vieira's video on YouTube. If you like this content, support the original creators by watching, liking and subscribing to their content.

TL;DR

A tightly planned draft can still feel empty if the outline constrains the writer away from what they genuinely want to write.

Briefing

Adult fantasy author Mariana Vieira describes writing her book Truth Teller as a deliberately non-linear, high-rewrite process—then argues that the chaos is not a flaw to fix, but a creative engine to embrace. Early drafts followed a carefully planned outline and romance/fantasy “beats” from start to finish, yet the result felt lifeless. The turning point came after feedback from her agent: the pieces weren’t working together because the draft was trying to do something she didn’t truly want to do. That critique pushed her to stop treating the outline as a set of answers and instead write the story she felt passionate about.

Truth Teller began with an attempt at control. Vieira drafted with an outline she believed would keep her organized—chapter structure, plot beats, and even romance conventions were mapped in advance. The first manuscript matched the plan so closely that it looked “right” on paper, but it lacked “soul.” Each time she tried to deviate, she told herself to stay on course, assuming the outline contained everything needed. That mindset produced a book that was competent yet emotionally flat.

After her agent’s long, pointed conversation, Vieira re-evaluated her own motivation. She initially tried to rationalize lower excitement for the second book by comparing it to her first novel—framing the first as a “book of your soul” and the second as naturally less thrilling. That explanation didn’t hold up. When she returned to drafting, she made a different promise to herself: write what she wanted, let characters and scenes steer, and loosen constraints tied to genre expectations and typical plot mechanics.

Her revised approach leaned into what she calls “pancing”—a chaotic, flexible mode where characters can “take control” and force rewrites. That unpredictability is terrifying because it can mean restarting from chapter one when later developments change earlier material. Still, she credits this method with producing the book’s most distinctive moments, including a twist that reshaped roughly 250 pages after she reached the end of act two. She says that twist likely wouldn’t have emerged from planning alone; it surfaced during drafting when the story surprised her.

Vieira also connects this creative process to her broader relationship with productivity. She notes that she learned productivity tools because her mind is naturally unorganized and mentally chaotic, but she doesn’t want to sterilize that energy in her fiction. The “flowing” chaos feels more genuine than forcing plot points into a rigid box. The practical lesson is not to reject structure entirely, but to draft freely first—then adapt later to meet industry standards for what can be submitted and published.

By the end, she frames her biggest takeaway as self-acceptance: don’t self-reject at the start of drafting, even if the process looks messy. If the draft isn’t finished, revise toward market expectations after the creative core exists. She ends with a craft recommendation—regular writing, broad reading, and a Skillshare class on building unique science fiction and fantasy worlds—while reinforcing the central message that her “tiny superpowers” come from embracing the chaos rather than fighting it.

Cornell Notes

Mariana Vieira’s adult fantasy writing process for Truth Teller is built on chaos, not linear planning. A tightly outlined first draft followed romance and fantasy “beats” but felt soulless, because it constrained her to do what she didn’t truly want. After feedback from her agent, she stopped treating the outline as a rulebook and returned to drafting with a more flexible, “pancing” mindset where characters can steer scenes and force major rewrites. That approach produced key breakthroughs, including a twist that required rewriting about 250 pages after act two. Her core lesson: draft passionately first, then revise later to align with publishing expectations—don’t self-reject because your brain works differently.

Why did the first, highly planned draft of Truth Teller feel wrong even though it matched the outline?

Vieira followed her outline closely—chapters and plot beats were in place, and the manuscript looked exactly like she expected. But the book “had no soul” because she kept limiting herself to the plan. Whenever she wanted to do something different, she told herself to stick to the outline, assuming it contained the answers. The result was competent structure without emotional authenticity.

What did her agent’s feedback change in her approach?

Her agent delivered extended feedback indicating that the book’s parts weren’t working together because Vieira was trying to do something she didn’t genuinely want to do. Vieira processed the critique quickly because she already sensed the mismatch internally. That conversation pushed her to loosen her attachment to genre beats and outline-driven constraints and instead write from passion and character-driven discovery.

How does “pancing” work in her drafting process, and why does it matter?

“Pancing” is her term for a chaotic, flexible mode where characters can start doing things she didn’t plan. She describes writing scenes where the story “takes control,” which can feel terrifying because it may require going back and rewriting earlier chapters to accommodate later developments. She argues this unpredictability creates a kind of magic she can’t replicate when outlining too tightly.

What concrete example shows how drafting chaos improved the book?

After reaching the end of act two, Vieira realized she wanted a twist that would impact everything earlier—about 250 pages. That discovery forced her to go back to page one and rewrite extensively. She credits the twist’s emergence to drafting itself: it likely wouldn’t have been imagined through planning alone.

How does she reconcile creative chaos with the need for publishable work?

She recommends drafting freely first—writing the book she’s passionate about, including weird characters and twists—then adapting later if the finished product isn’t ready for submission. She emphasizes staying “reasonable” with industry expectations, but not self-rejecting at the beginning. The workflow becomes: create the passionate draft, then revise toward market standards.

Review Questions

  1. What specific failure mode did Vieira experience when she followed her outline too strictly, and how did she recognize it?
  2. Describe how “pancing” changes the relationship between author planning and character agency in her process.
  3. Why did a twist discovered late in drafting force rewrites of earlier material, and what does that imply about planning versus discovery?

Key Points

  1. 1

    A tightly planned draft can still feel empty if the outline constrains the writer away from what they genuinely want to write.

  2. 2

    Agent feedback helped Vieira identify a mismatch between her planned structure and her real creative intent.

  3. 3

    Vieira’s “pancing” approach lets characters steer scenes, even when that requires major rewrites.

  4. 4

    Major discoveries can arrive late in drafting; in Truth Teller, a twist led to rewriting roughly 250 pages.

  5. 5

    The most practical workflow for her is to draft passionately first, then revise later to meet publishing standards.

  6. 6

    Creative chaos can be treated as a strength rather than a defect, especially when it produces originality and emotional authenticity.

Highlights

Truth Teller’s first draft followed the outline so closely it looked “right,” yet it lacked “soul” because the plan limited her creative instincts.
Her agent’s extended feedback pushed her to stop treating the outline as a rulebook and instead write the story she felt passionate about.
A twist conceived after act two forced Vieira to rewrite about 250 pages, and she credits that breakthrough to drafting discovery rather than planning.
Vieira argues that characters taking control—while terrifying—creates a kind of magic she can’t generate from outlining alone.

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