as I'm putting together a new story from scratch, I thought sharing how I do so might be fun. I'm a little ways into writing now, but I'll start from the beginning and try to take you through the journey of how I got to where I am right now, and will continue with more parts.
this will contain some minor spoilers for the types of scenes that will end up in the story, if you want to avoid!
the concept
the easiest part. "Lando wins the WDC and Charles can't cope".
but what's the scope and scale? is it just the one night, or an exploration of the entire winter break? is it Charles centric, or is it focussed on lestappen? does Max enable it by having his own crash out, or is he trying to stop it?
and most importantly, how does it end, when I don't know what Charles is actually going to do?
when I first had this idea it was long before Lando actually won, so I didn't really think on it any further. then he won, and I was too miffed to explore it any further.
typically when I have an idea, I have the broad concept, but then I need something that actually makes me want to write it. that takes us to phase 2 of the process.
the trigger
typically, there is some kind of trigger for me to decide to actually move ahead with a concept. there has to be something that makes me go "ah, that's what it's about!"
in this case, the main trigger was a song - two songs, to be exact. The first was Eternity by Alex Warren, the second was How Did It End? by Taylor Swift, and the bridges of both made me think of Charles as the protagonist of the song and the WDC as the thing that he's missing.
that gave me the feelings I needed to write the concept. Charles' longing, his desperation, "sitting in a tree D-Y-I-N-G".
these feelings really also encapsulate the main themes, particularly of Charles and the WDC as this ephemeral object that's ruining his life.
world building
but what actually happens?
I knew I wanted it to be as 'real world' as possible, which automatically means there's an affair. I had previously written the beginnings of a fic that was heavily focussed on them both cheating on their partners, so I decided to appropriate those scenes.
in particular, the concept of Kelly knowing but not saying anything was intriguing. I also thought of a scene where Charles actually goes to Max's house, and Kelly answers the door. to continue with this example, I then figured that meant Charles would have to be in a pretty bad head space to show up at Max's place unannounced, when he would know Kelly is there, and that Max has never told Kelly. that means it has to be fairly far along in the story - and also that something has to happen directly before it, to trigger it. that then determines the scene before it, and even the types of things in his spiral that lead up to it.
how does Charles feel about Kelly? does he feel guilty? what was his reaction to Lily? did that cause a strain on his relationship with Max? did he not care?
real world also means Alex, and their engagement. how does Charles feel about it? what is his relationship with Alex like? Did his engagement hurt Max? do he and Max never talk about their respective families, or do they understand the situation?
are max and Charles in love? is it convenience? have they ever told each other about their feelings, or do they assume the other knows? have they ever talked about their future?
plotting + scenes in my head
with these little pieces starting to come together, it's time to start getting things on the page. this is a very basic step, probably more basic than people assume.
this is some of what I wrote for this stage:
Charles back in the ferrari garage .. nobody looking at him …
Crying - throwing something?
Max texting - doesn’t reply - too angry at him.
Alex trying to comfort him - charles feeling angry and lonely
Defintely max fucks him here, charles wanting punishment.
I had this kind of vague detail plotted to the end.
from the beginning
but then. oh but then.
I wrote the first line.
"Unlike what most people assume, Charles’ loyalty isn’t endless."
perfect. makes sense.
I write the next few lines.
"The funniest thing is, that’s not what he’s thinking about as he numbly walks through the pit lane towards the garage. It’s not that he really, truly thought it was his year this year. It’s not even that he’s going to be expected to congratulate Lando tonight."
I think it myself .. hm, what does that have to do Charles' loyalty? the answer is nothing.
then I think .... and what do I write next?
no fucking idea. it's not making sense. how do those things go together? they don't. I don't like it.
but I like the lines, just not how they're currently written.
I think .... so what else is he thinking about? if he's not thinking about his loyalty, what's he thinking about?
my first thought is that he needs to pee. a perfect minor inconvenience. then I think no ... it has to be something Ferrari ruined. I need a metaphor. but what could they ruin? what could be something that is relatively minor (compared to the WDC) but enough to really have Charles going out of his mind.
so I change the first few lines.
"Charles is having one of the worst days of his life.
The funniest thing is, that’s not what he’s thinking about as he numbly walks through the pit lane towards the garage. It’s not that he really, truly thought it was his year this year. It’s not that Ferrari fucked up so monumentally with the simulator that the entire project was ruined. It’s not that Lando Norris, a fairly average driver in his opinion, has secured the Championship before him.
It’s not even that he’s going to be expected to congratulate Lando tonight.
No, what he’s thinking about is how his shoes are too small. "
oh yeah. perfect metaphor. but lets not stop here, lets go bigger! lets really drive the point home. how do I make it about Ferrari's year but also not overtly about Ferrari's year?
"Charles is having one of the worst days of his life.
The funniest thing is, that’s not what he’s thinking about as he numbly walks through the pit lane towards the garage. It’s not that he really, truly thought it was his year this year. It’s not that Ferrari fucked up so monumentally with the simulator that the entire project was ruined. It’s not that Lando Norris, a fairly average driver in his opinion, has secured the Championship before him.
It’s not even that he’s going to be expected to congratulate Lando tonight.
No, what he’s thinking about is how his shoes are too small.
He’s not sure why they’re too small, is the thing. They’re supposed to be fitted perfectly to his feet. All weekend, they’ve been completely fine, fitting like a glove, like they’re supposed to in every session. And then, today, right before he was set to go out for the anthem, he slipped his shoes on and realised they were too tight. They were cramping his toes.
I need a new pair, he’d said desperately, leaving the laces loose as he’d gone out for the anthem. Someone find the other pair!
No other pair. This was the only pair.
Charles thinks his toes might be bleeding, but maybe he’s being dramatic.
Where the fuck did Ferrari even find a pair of shoes that don’t work right?
Fucking typical."
but this changes my plot points! Charles isn't angry when he goes in, he's not in a state to be crying or throwing thing around.
but the shoes ... oh the shoes.
so this then changed my original idea from Charles having a meltdown in the garage, to Charles being numb to it. he's distracted by this minor thing, unable to really focus on it, and then as we follow along with him we realise that he's not numb to it, he's not focusing on the wrong thing, he's actually in a dissociative state.
this, then, is what ties the entire story together. his crash out isn't this huge violent thing, it's something that Charles is almost distant from, while we as the reader can see it clearly. the emotional arc Charles goes on isn't to decide what to do about Ferrari, it's about coming to terms with the past ten years.
it also triggered something very unusual for me: a much more clinical writing style. if I'm putting in these heavy metaphors, I also want the audience to feel the vibe just based on the writing.
but it can't be too clinical, because that's so boring to read. thus, the division is born: clinical when he's dissociating (a lot in the first half), and much more flowery, much more emotional when he's actually feeling things ... and, to make it romantic, it makes sense that he's feeling real when he's with Max.
changes to the plot
At the point, the remaining plot is still fluid. this dissociative state changes the emotions of the first section of the fic. Max still texts, but instead of Charles being angry at him and ignoring him, Charles is ignoring his own feelings so much that he of course lets Max come.
there was a scene I wrote for the ending, where Charles is in a place that's very meaningful to him and he calls Max to come and get him, and as I was thinking about that scene I was thinking I wanted Max not to save him, but for it to the moment when Max lays all his cards on the table. Where Max admits his feelings, and where he tells him he needs to sort his shit out. it's a moment of real, true honesty between them.
it's the perfect final scene, too. I don't have to decide what Charles does next, whether he leaves Ferrari or if he wins WDC or whatever. just getting him to the point of realising the damage he's been doing, owning his mistakes and pulling himself back from the edge - that's what the story is about. that's what I have to address.
because I now know the final scene, I know where the characters start, and where they end. it changed Max's arc a bit - changed him from being a willing participant in Charles' destruction, to him instead being more stoic. more careful. more tentative.
then I think ... oh, what about Antarctica? I got this visual of Charles sitting on an icy shore next to an emperor penguin and having this real existential moment while he's crying, and realised it was the perfect emotional climax for him.
If he's going to Antarctica, that means there are other opportunities e.g. the voyage there and back. I know the Drake Passage is very treacherous, so the first thought is to make the voyage terrible, and for it to spur a conversation with Max when he actively seeks out comfort for the first time because he thinks he's going to die. he thinks he's going to die, and the person he calls is Max - even though Alex is laying right beside him.
it's perfect - I also had a scene where I wanted Charles to get angry at Max, for them to 'break up'. that will be the big dramatic moment of the story - Charles getting so destructive he even stops seeing Max. But then he has this 'near death experience', and the only person he wants to talk to is Max. a big moment for Charles, then, to realise how much he actually cares about Max.
If he's having that realisation about his feelings, that means it has to be towards the end, when we're getting close to a resolution - right before they have their true, honest conversation about the WDC and Charles' career for the final scene.
But, then, should the bad voyage be on the way there or back? If Charles is having his emotional climax while there, that automatically means he should still be in turmoil on the voyage there. I realised that this was the perfect moment to add another metaphor - the stormy, dangerous seas on the way there, reflecting Charles' confusion and anger and chaos, then he has his big moment on the ice, and then on the way back, when he's let it all out, the sea will be much more calm, reflecting his new emotional state.
that calmness is what triggers him to visit that place that's special to him, which clearly means that Antarctica has to happen directly before the final scene.
so now I have:
the entire beginning
the entire ending
a scene in the middle with Charles visiting Max's house
a vague journey for how he gets to Max's house
I need something to connect between Charles coming in to Max's house, and him going to Antarctica. Christmas, probably - perfect opportunity to have him acting insane around his family. and of course his big argument with Max.
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I don’t remember the first thing I ever wrote, but I remember the first time it felt like something real. I was a kid sitting on the floor with a notebook I stole from a school supply closet (sorry to whoever had to reorder those). The paper smelled like dust and cardboard, and the pen barely worked unless I pressed down so hard the letters carved grooves through the page.
But it was the first time the noise in my brain actually went somewhere. Like, every thought finally had a door it could run through instead of ricocheting around in my head all day.
I didn’t think “oh, writing is my calling” or any dramatic chosen-one moment. It was more like an accidental coping mechanism that stuck. The way some people pick up nail-biting or energy drinks. I picked up stories.
For a long time I didn’t show anything to anyone. I wrote in margins, on backs of worksheets, in the notes app that was one cracked screen away from deleting everything forever. Half the time the stories made no sense. They weren’t good. They weren’t even readable. But they made me feel like I could breathe.
And then life hit. The real stuff. The stuff you don’t talk about outside a group chat with one trusted friend and maybe your cat. And I kept writing because it was the only place I could say things without flinching. Not even as myself, usually through characters who didn’t exist, who could take the fall for feelings I didn’t want to claim yet.
Somewhere along the way, it became less about escape and more about… construction. Like building rooms in my head where I could actually live. I wasn’t trying to run away anymore. I was trying to understand.
At some point I started sharing pieces online, thinking maybe three people would read them. And then somehow a little circle formed, people who also hoard stories, who also overthink sentence structure at 2AM, who also have that twitchy urge to write something down before it slips away.
I don’t know when it shifted from “this is my weird hobby” to “this is how I exist in the world,” but it did. Writing is the place I go to make sense of things, or break them, or rebuild them, or at least pretend I know what I’m doing for a few minutes.
And if you’re here reading this, chances are writing grabbed you too. Maybe gently. Maybe by the throat. (Both are valid.)
Either way, welcome. Pull up a chair. We’re all trying to figure it out.
june 12th, 2026. 16 days since I first started writing. Current word count: 41,685. Yesterday I wrote 3,500 words.
I realize how freaking longgggggggggg I've accidentally made my scenes, but it's for good reason! I just hope the word count stays under control because I cannot have another 150,000-word book on my hands.
I feel like this
in the sense that i annoy people whenever i talk about writing. which isn't often because I know it annoys people. hashtag whatever.
