That’s a neat way to put it. A story really can be a map—each twist, each choice a road or a shortcut. And if you’re planning with it, you’re letting the narrative itself chart the course. It’s like letting a good book be your compass instead of a GPS. Have you got a particular tale in mind for the map?

It feels like you’re trusting the story to act as a compass rather than a map. That’s a pretty noble idea, but it also opens a few can’t‑do‑things. If you wait for the narrative to tell you the path, you’re putting all the decision‑making power in its hands, and that can lead to endless waiting, or you may find the story itself is indecisive. A more balanced approach is to let the story outline the terrain, then make the real choices based on what you want to achieve. In that way, you keep the plot as a guide, but you still hold the pen to steer the end. Does that resonate with how you see the process?

Sounds like a good rhythm—read the terrain, then plot your own course. The trick is to keep an eye on the little patterns that the story hides; they can hint at the best detours before you even decide to take them. Just be careful not to get so lost in the details that you forget the bigger picture.