The First Draft

It's the final week of First Drafts Month here at Writer Musings! What does a first draft mean to you? How do you write yours? Does it change for each project, or is it the same each time?

So far, we’ve heard from Jennifer Hubbard, Sherrie Petersen, and PJ Hoover. It’s been wonderful hearing about how differently everyone attacks a first draft, how differently we all feel about them, and what we do with them! Today, I’m going to share my ideas on the first draft.

I hate them. They are my least favorite part of writing – but I think that’s mostly because of how my writing process has evolved. When I first started writing, I thought the first draft would be the only draft. As in, the first time I wrote ‘The End,’ I thought I was done! HA. I can now look back on those days and laugh at myself. :)

After I realized I’d have to actually revise, I tried revising as I went. It kind of worked, but I was still missing big pieces and couldn’t figure out why. So I took a few steps back and looked at the big picture...and I realized that’s exactly what I was missing: the big picture.

Now, when I begin a first draft, I have to have all the pieces of my big picture, plus a few extra (just in case). To do this, I sit down and explore every single possibility for my story. I write down every possible outcome, character, pivotal scene, main plot piece, characters, relationships, everything. Even the ridiculously stupid things. It’s a lot of work, and can sometimes take weeks until I feel like I have everything I need. But, for me, it’s necessary. Here’s why.

In doing this all this work, I’m essentially creating the pieces to a puzzle. I don’t know what the final image is going to look like yet, so I don’t know what I’m going to need. So I kind of gather up everything that I think I might need, and then guess at in the order in which they need to fit together. If I’m missing a piece, then I get frustrated. Or, if I have to create a new piece to fill a hole in the puzzle, it doesn’t usually fit right – which means I end up forcing it in, and that makes the story feel forced. But if I have more pieces than I need when I begin, that eliminates some of those problems.

When you sit down to do a jigsaw puzzle, how do you start? Personally, I separate out all edge pieces and put those together first. I don’t particularly like this part of puzzle-building, because I don’t get to see the image forming in front of me. But putting the edge pieces together first gives me a framework with which to build the rest of the puzzle.

I see my first drafts as the same kind of thing. It’s a framework that I can build upon, and it’s absolutely necessary for it to be solid before I start adding new pieces. Otherwise, it will come crashing down. For me, it’s not fun at all. But I get through it by telling myself that, once it’s done, I get to add in the fun stuff like characterization, subplots, snappy dialog, etc. Sometimes, I even end up using those ridiculously stupid pieces I mentioned above (slightly modified, in most cases). :)

Then, I get to watch the image of my story blossom in front of me, often surprising me. But I wouldn’t have that without the solid framework of the first draft.

HUGE thank you to Jenn, Sherrie, and PJ for sharing so much with us!

The First Draft: PJ Hoover

It's Week Three of First Drafts Month here at Writer Musings! What does a first draft mean to you? How do you write yours? Does it change for each project, or is it the same each time? For the entire month of June, we will be hearing from various writers in various stages. And each of them will share what a first draft means to them.

Today, we'll be hearing from PJ Hoover, author of The Forgotten Worlds trilogy: The Emerald Tablet, The Navel of the World, and forthcoming The Necropolis.


FIRST DRAFTS: Be the Hare. And the Tortoise.

I live my life like the tortoise. I strive for consistency. I don’t like to start anything I don’t plan to finish. And as the years go by, I’ve come to understand the best way to do this is to live like the tortoise. Want a black belt? Go to Kung Fu three hours a week for two years and you’ll have one. Trying to memorize a poem? Learn a single line each day. By using this tortoise methodology, almost anything can get accomplished from painting the house to—you guessed it—writing a novel. Yes, you can write a novel by writing a single page each day. And this is a great plan!

But then the hare reminds you he’s in the race too. And he demands attention.

I give the hare proper attention in my first draft stage, because though he doesn’t always use the best judgment, he does have one great thing going for him. Forward momentum. The faster he runs, the less likely it is he’ll slow down. (The secret for the hare is to not let him get distracted.) And so, when I’m writing my first drafts, I write them as quickly as possible. The words start flowing, and I never want them to stop. I want to take that forward momentum and run with it.

Why? Because, for me, there’s nothing quite so motivating as seeing the pretty words fill up page after page quickly. And the more motivated I feel, the more I write. And the more I write, the more motivated I feel. Yes, you get it, I know. It’s a perfect circle.

So I have this process. I plan for a bit. I get through that first draft as fast as I can. And then what? What have I really accomplished?

For me, the first draft represents the skeleton of my story that will come in revisions. I’m willing to take the time to fill in all those sinewy details as I revise, but knowing I have those bare bones grants me that huge feeling of accomplishment. If someone asks if I’ve written another book, I answer with a resounding “Yes!”

But, you might say, what happens when my story idea changes in the middle of the first draft? What if I decide on page 75 that the main character really needs a dog? Do I go back and add in the dog from page 1 onward? Not a chance. That’s why Microsoft Word has the comment feature. I insert a comment wherever I am that I need to add in a dog, and then I move onward. I don’t give in to those distractions like the hare.

So be the tortoise. And be the hare. Be consistent but move forward quickly.

Take Newton’s First Law of Motion:
Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

And modify it for writing:
Words flowing toward the completion of a first draft tend to continue flowing unless an external force is applied to them.

Resist the force and finish that first draft!

The First Draft: Sherrie Petersen

It's Week Two of First Drafts Month here at Writer Musings!  What does a first draft mean to you? How do you write yours? Does it change for each project, or is it the same each time?  For the entire month of June, we will be hearing from various writers in various stages. And each of them will share what a first draft means to them.

Today, we'll be hearing from Sherrie Petersen, author of the blog Write About Now.
***
I’ve always been a perfectionist.

This would be a good thing if I were an accountant. (Numbers—ugh!) But I’m not. I’m a writer. And when it comes to first drafts, perfectionism can be a huge problem.

Take this post for example. I’ve written the opening at least ten times in my head. Then as I typed it out, I deleted and rewrote it three times. We’re talking about a little post here, five hundred words, tops. Apply that tendency to a 50K novel and you’ll see the problem.

I know in the back of my head that first drafts are supposed to be messy. I know that I can’t expect every sentence, every word, to be perfect. But knowing this doesn’t make things any easier.

So I’ve come up with a few tricks to motivate myself to keep going:

1. Rewrite or Die
I like to edit as I go. It helps me get back into my story each day. Of course, I can get hung up rewriting the same chapter every day. I have to remind myself that by the time I get to the end, I’ll probably need to change a lot of things, but I’ll never get there without moving forward. On days when it’s a challenge, Tactic #2 is very helpful.

2. Freewrite
I give myself permission to write a bunch of stuff that I know is not going to end up in the final version. I sit in front of the computer and put down everything I know about each character and how they relate to each other. This often works better for me than an outline because it clarifies motivations and highlights conflicts between my characters. But since it’s not going into the actual story, it doesn’t have to be perfect.

3. No unrealistic minimums
Sometimes setting a huge page or word count goal can be more paralyzing than motivating. Writing one, double-spaced page each day is a big enough goal to get me going and (shh – don’t tell!) I usually end up with more.

4. Placeholders are a good thing
I’ve had days where I keep rewriting the same sentence, over and over. Rather than make myself crazy, I’ll use a placeholder like [insert more anger here] and keep writing. I highlight it so that when I’m ready to edit, I don’t overlook this by mistake. Then I’m free to keep churning out the story in spite of myself.

First drafts thrill me. There’s always that urgent desire in the beginning. I love the story. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written. Fifty pages in, the real work starts. This story sucks. Why am I writing this? Plowing through the middle is difficult. That’s why there are way more people who want to write a book than there are actual authors.

But persevering to the end is worth it. Even if the story needs work. After all, that’s what second (and third, and fourth) drafts are for.

For a first draft, just finishing is close enough to perfect.

Thanks, Sherrie, for sharing such fabulous insight with us!!

The First Draft: Jennifer Hubbard

It's First Drafts month here at Writer Musings!  What does a first draft mean to you?  How do you write yours?  Does it change for each project, or is it the same each time?

For the entire month of June, we will be hearing from various writers in various stages. And each of them will share what a first draft means to them. Today, we will hear from Jennifer Hubbard, author of The Secret Year.

First Drafts: The Raw Material. And I Do Mean Raw.
Jennifer R. Hubbard

The first draft is a an adventure. It starts with an idea, some idea, any idea. Character, plot, setting, situation. It may nestle up in a corner of the brain for weeks, motnhs, years, or it may burst out after only a few minutes. That germ of an idea may make its ifrst appearance on a candy wrapper or in a notebook, or it may have the patience to wait until a the writer is sitting before the computer. [titles of first drafts]
The first drtaft appears in a computer file, single-spacesd, flush left, no spaces between paragraphs. W And not much attention to captitalization, puncutuation, typos, either. It flows like a stream of consciousness, very little editing on the fly, with idea s of what to include later put in brakcets [like this].
I may have an idea, but a first draft has no traction until i have the voice, the narrative voice, the voice that tells the story. For that reason, I rarely shift the POV later on, although it’s beenknown ot happen.
I amade a note above to mention titles of first drafts—the first draft gets saved in the computer under any old name: the naem of the main character (which name generally proves temporary), or the spark of the idea that made me write the story even though that concept or thing may ultimately vanish from the final drfaft.
***

The above is what a first draft of mine looks like. I cringe at displaying it uncorrected that way—what I really want to do is put a watermark through it saying “First Draft, Deliberately Uncorrected to Illustrate a Point!” so that it can never be quoted out of context as an example of what a sloppy writer I am. I don’t think I’ve ever shown anyone a first draft of mine—there’s no reason to, since first drafts are for my eyes only. My critiquers never see anything until it’s been through multiple drafts.

But I’m leaving this example the way it is, because it’s as close as I can come to conveying, in its most raw form, a real first draft. The first draft is fun because my only mission at that point is to get something down—anything. It doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, if you believe Anne Lamott (Bird by Bird), it should be considerably less than perfect.

As you can see from the above, my first draft offers opportunities to the writer in the same way that certain cliffs offer handholds and footholds to a rock-climber. There are obvious mistakes that need correction; there are bracketed comments with notes about paths I need to follow or problems I need to fix. I don’t have to think too long about where to jump in: anywhere is fine!

One reason so much is uncorrected in the above section is that my goal with a first draft is to keep moving forward. As I type, I’m aware of making mistakes, but I know they can be fixed later. It’s more important to chase down the next sentence before it gets away.

My first drafts are also spare. Including the details of the setting, building up symbolism, tinkering with the rhythm, deepening the character motivation, and perfecting word choice can be done in later drafts. As I revise, I can also move text around so that it’s more coherent (as opposed to just writing down ideas in the order they occurred to me, as I did in the example).

I realize that I’ve strayed here into talking about revision, but I think that’s the point. And what I mean by that is: The purpose of a first draft is to be revised. A first draft is a milestone, a way station. I may decide to abandon the journey without taking the draft any farther, but it doesn’t make the first draft a completed work.

The first draft is the beginning. It’s raw material, the hunk of clay I cut off and plunk down on my worktable, ready for shaping. It lives to be changed.

Thanks for sharing such amazing insights, Jenn!
 
For more First Draft goodness, come back next monday for another perspective.