The Discipline of Chaos: Writing Rogues and Anti-heroes Because My Brain Requires It

People assume chaos is loud — all noise and motion. For me, it’s quieter. It slips in when I’m not paying attention. Thoughts wander even when my body sits still. ADHD, the inattentive kind, isn’t about bouncing off walls. It’s more like autumn leaves drifting — beautiful, scattered, and hard to catch.

That’s why I need discipline. My lifeline. I need a to-do list for everything I have to accomplish. But when it comes to fiction, I can only handle the barest outlines. Anything more and the story stops moving.

Structure doesn’t control creativity — it allows it to exist. Routines, notes, reminders, lists… they hold ideas long enough for me to catch them. Without them, stories would stay half-formed sparks. And trust me, I have folders full of those sparks — abandoned beginnings, floating ideas, paragraphs that may never see the light of day. The stories that do get out into the world? They’re the ones where I’ve found a discipline that works for me.

And my characters? They live in the same tension. Some are loud and reckless. Some are quiet and careful. All of them balance acting in the moment with preparing for what comes next.

I’m drawn to rogues, mercenaries, and antiheroes not because they’re reckless, but because they push against systems that don’t fit them. They break rules, but with purpose. They stumble, adapt, improvise — not out of chaos, but because they notice angles most people miss.

Quiet sparks that start rebellions have always been more compelling to me than loud, immediate defiance.

My protagonists don’t roar; they smolder. They slip past obstacles, question authority, and do the right thing even when it means stepping outside the lines. Maybe that resonates because my mind works the same way — wandering, curious, always searching for the meaningful threads beneath the surface distractions.

And then there’s Bad Karma. She dares and wins because she trains, reviews, and prepares to act in the moment — whatever the moment requires.

Discipline helps me catch those threads.
Chaos helps me tug on them.

Writing, for me, is a balance: routines that ground me, paired with characters who remind me that coloring outside the lines is where truth hides. Structure and rebellion. That’s exactly where stories come alive.

If you’re drawn to characters who don’t fit neatly into boxes, who quietly bend the rules for the right reasons, who fight their battles in ways that aren’t always obvious… then you’re right at home here.

Easy Jobs: They Never Are

The best news for Burn and Bad Karma is that they rarely have to attend any staff meetings, and if they do, the group is usually new people.

Seriously, though, it can be complicated for them to get through a job that should have been straight forward, simple and over with. That would also make the stories both shorter than expected and it wouldn’t ring true to real life. At least for most of us.

Since Easy Jobs is already in the title, I’ll use it as an example of complicating things for the characters. There are spoilers ahead, so if you haven’t read Easy Jobs, maybe go read that one first (or listen to the audio book).

The first thing that happens is that Hitcher, who’s exiting the Holy Mexican Empire’s embassy in Atlanta, gets spotted and chased by security personnel. Prioritizing not ending up a prisoner of the Empire, he accidentally kills one of the security team, and hurts a few others. Between the data he took, and the death of one of their own, the Empire’s local leadership wants their data and to make an example of Hitcher, so they set up a bounty for him, employing their own assets and mercenary forces in the Southern States Union.

Next, we meet Burn and Bad Karma conducting a data theft in some corporate executive’s skyrise condo. They’re professionals. Highly skilled. They reconned the condo, checked schedules, and did all the right things. And, of course, there was an unknown occupant in the condo, who came out armed. Data theft escalated to a self defense shooting, followed by the pair having to rappel down the building, getting into a short gun fight with a security team on the ground before stealing a car.

Micky then calls in Burn and Bad Karma to get Hitcher to Pittsburg. This involves dodging mercenaries, disrupting a gang robbery in a fast food place, illegally crossing a border, and, finally, a show down with the Empire’s hirelings and their ringer and high level killer.

Does it seem convoluted? Because it does. However, for the story to feel real, and to give the characters changes to shine and do what they do best, I had to find ways to increase the intensity. Burn and Bad Karma were focusing on steal and speed to get Hitcher clear. But they’re too people against a group that national resources to leverage, even if they have to so in a hostile nation. And I don’t want the Empire to seem incompetent. They aren’t. In setting, the Holy Mexican Empire controls everything to real world Panama, and is doing well in battle in the former US states from California to Texas. If they were incompetent, Hitcher would have gotten away clean in the first place.

So, writers have to find ways to increase the intensity and concern for the main characters. Some times, its the bad guys getting players on the board and messing up the main characters’ plans. Other times, it’s a matter of dumb luck braking against the characters. The gas station fight in Easy Jobs was a combination. Hitcher stepped in front of some mercenaries that were looking for the bounty on his head.

When we do this right, readers get a fun story that rings true and keeps you turning pages. Not that I, or any writer, nails that every time.

But here’s the secret: if the story needs a kick, I can add that in re-writes. I don’t have to write a perfect story the first time out. I can write the first draft, and when I re-read it, I can make notes going “hey this is too easy. Give them a threat or problem.” If you’ve read Easy Jobs, they literally had to swim across a river to get from Kentucky to Ohio. Why? Because at that point in time, the fictional United States and Southern States Union had no open check points or crossings. Burn and Bad Karma had no way to scam IDs that would allow such a crossing at that time. So, they had to slog it across and work their way to a town so they could secure another ride.

Along with that, they discuss the issues with the amount of surveillance they needed to avoid, and how they would, along with the risks of dealing with law enforcement, and how they would approach that. None of that would allow them an easier delivery.

So, hopefully, this gives you the readers (and any writers out there) some insight on how the stakes get increased in a story, even when the task should be simple and straight forward, an easy job. And we writers how you enjoy these stories!