Some writers outline everything.
Some wing it.
Some treat it like a job and clock in at 9am whether they feel like it or not.
And then there are people like me — a method writer.
If you’ve heard of method acting, you’ll understand the idea. If you haven’t, here’s the short version: instead of just imagining a character, you try to live inside them. You don’t observe the scene from a distance. You step into it.
That’s how I write.
And honestly? It changes everything.
What Being a Method Writer Actually Means
When I say I’m a method writer, I don’t mean I’m dramatic about it. I mean I can’t fake emotional truth.
If my character is exhausted, I need to understand exhaustion.
If they’re angry, I need to sit in that anger.
If they’re heartbroken, I have to remember what that feels like — physically, not just intellectually.
It’s not about copying real life word-for-word. It’s about recreating the feeling.
I don’t just ask, “What would they say?”
I ask, “What does their chest feel like right now?”
Because dialogue comes from the body as much as the brain.
I Have to Physically Feel the Scene
This is where being a method writer gets interesting.
I don’t just picture scenes — I stage them in my head. I stand where they stand. I walk where they walk. Sometimes I’ll literally pace around the room acting out a moment.
If a scene takes place outside at night, I need to feel the quiet of it.
If it’s tense, I’ll notice my jaw tighten while I’m writing.
If it’s romantic, I’ll slow the rhythm of the sentences without even realising I’m doing it.
It’s physical.
That’s why sometimes writing feels draining. Because it isn’t just typing. It’s experiencing.
Why Smoking Breaks Sometimes Lead to the Best Ideas
Here’s the weird part.
Some of my best ideas don’t come while I’m at the keyboard. They come when I step away.
There’s something about standing outside, letting your brain wander, replaying a scene in your head like a film — that’s where the breakthrough happens.
That’s the method writer brain at work.
I’ll hear a line of dialogue out of nowhere.
I’ll suddenly realise a character wouldn’t say what I wrote.
Or I’ll feel that something in the scene isn’t emotionally honest.
Distance lets me re-enter the character properly.
It’s not procrastination.
It’s immersion resetting.
I Hear Dialogue Before I Write It
This is probably the clearest sign that I’m a method writer.
I hear the conversation before I type it.
Not in a strange way — more like tuning into a radio station.
If the dialogue feels forced, I know immediately. Because I can’t hear it naturally.
When it’s right, it flows. It feels spoken. It feels lived-in.
And if I don’t believe it when I hear it in my head, it doesn’t make it onto the page.
That’s the test.
Why Being a Method Writer Isn’t Just a Quirk
It would be easy to dismiss this as just “my process”.
But being a method writer isn’t just a personality trait. It’s a tool.
It helps me:
- Write dialogue that feels real rather than scripted
- Avoid emotional clichés
- Spot when a scene is dishonest
- Build characters who react like humans instead of plot devices
Because if I can’t live in the scene, the reader won’t either.
And readers can tell when something is surface-level.
They might not know why it feels flat.
But they feel it.
The Downside of Being a Method Writer
It takes longer.
You can’t rush immersion.
You can’t fake it when your head isn’t in the right place.
Sometimes that means stepping away from a story until you’re ready to inhabit it properly.
That’s frustrating.
But I’d rather take longer and get it right than force something that feels hollow.
Emotional truth matters more than speed.
How Being a Method Writer Shapes My Stories
When you write this way, characters lead.
Plot doesn’t disappear — but it grows organically from how people react.
If a character is stubborn, the story bends around that stubbornness.
If someone is grieving, their decisions shift accordingly.
As a method writer, I don’t ask, “What happens next?”
I ask, “What would they actually do?”
Sometimes that surprises me.
Sometimes it ruins my outline.
But it always makes the story stronger.
Final Thoughts: Why Method Writing Works for Me
Not everyone needs to be a method writer.
Some writers thrive on structure. Some thrive on speed.
For me, immersion is everything.
If I can’t feel it, I can’t write it.
And if I can feel it, the words come faster than I can type.
Over to You
Are you a method writer — or do you prefer distance and structure?
I’d genuinely love to know how you approach your stories.
Drop a comment, share your process, or tell me if you think I’m overcomplicating it.
And if you want more behind-the-scenes thoughts on writing, storytelling, and building books from the ground up, head over to CMeewrites and explore the Writing Room.
Let’s build better stories — properly.