I told this story to a friend today who promptly and through her mirth informed me that this was the sort of thing I needed to put on my author blog. So I am.
I'm a pantser, as we determined not long ago. I love the thrill when random things I put into a story come together into something cohesive and coherent, as we determined shortly thereafter. Got that? Okay. Here's the scoop. The novel I'm currently writing is the fourth I've written in its particular universe. I've also written many short stories and super-short stories in this universe, so there is much history here. (Now who would have thought, back in 198? that the mystical Druidic religion I created would come to this? ) The basis of all their rituals is three. It's always three with these people. (Don't ask why; I made it up in high school. I may have had a reason then but I simply do not recall.) You don't have to have three for everything, but for serious workings, three is recommended-to-required. You can't calm three rivers colliding as rapids into a gigantic whirlpool without three Druids. I rest my case.
Jump ahead some twenty years.
I, the eternal pantser, discover in my current work that it is possible to manipulate the magics the Druids used in their rituals and spells through other means. Say for instance, sex. I didn't know that. I only discovered in the last six months when I wrote it.
Add to the mix a cursed theatrical company that really needs its bad luck to change and two boys who intend to fix the problem. But wait! There's more! (And it's not a ginsu knife.) I said two boys. You noticed that, didn't you? But the Druids work in threes, not twos. So there's this chick who plans to help them. It's her company, too, and she's tired of all the bad ju-ju.
Now comes the joy of the pantser: The plot requires (you guessed it) a ménage-à-trois in order to resolvle.
I'd quote Hannibal Smith here, but my plan didn't come together--because there was no plan. Of course, I still feel that A-Team like satisfaction. ;D