Struggling through the Shitty First Draft
By Heather Webb | August 27, 2020 |
Raise your hand if you’re working on a first draft. Yeah, me, too. I’m going to let you in on a secret: I used to hate drafting. There’s an expanse of empty white page. There are thousands of possibilities (holy overwhelm, Batman), and it takes an enormous amount of dynamic energy to create from nothing.
That’s what a first draft is all about—creating from nothing. Well, nothing but a few nebulous ideas.
Yet, something has happened to my feelings about drafting over time. Now, after writing eight books, I’ve realized my writing process continues to evolve, and some of the methods I used for my first few novels no longer fit either my skill set, or my schedule. I’m starting to see drafting in a whole new light. Is it still my favorite part of writing a book? No, but somewhere along the way, I’ve found a few ways to enjoy it more, and to speed up the painstaking process of getting something down on paper. I’ve also given myself permission to try new things. Here are some hints for those of you struggling through the shitty first draft:
A deliberate writer or one who labors over the words:
If you’re a writer who simply cannot put “anything” down because your sentences must be well-crafted and your scenes and transitions complete before you move forward, then the trick is to write short. Writing shorter drafts means you can hit goals faster, sooner, and have a real sense of accomplishment that we all so desperately need when writing a novel. (We all need goal posts of some kind.) Once you have this shorter first draft, build upon the essence of the story. I’m a deliberate writer myself, so I tend to have about 80,000 word first drafts. I often add 15-25,000 words in my second draft, and then pare down from there as I continue to shape the story.
Working on a heavily fact-based book, or one with intricate world-building: (i.e. a historical biographical novel or a fantasy novel or sci-fi with lots of “rules” or inventions that govern that world.)
I’m working on a dual biographical novel right now, actually, with two characters whose lives were heavily documented. It’s both fascinating and a little exhausting. Writing without honed purpose means I might get things wrong that could cause serious plot and theme issues later. (Every historical author has run into this at one time or other, getting something wrong in their chronology or some pertinent detail their plot hinges on, and having to backtrack.) Beyond plot issues, I don’t want people who may have known my characters to call me to the carpet and give me whatfor. It makes for a very difficult drafting process.
But I think I’ve cracked the code. Chunk the book into acts. For each act, write a scene outline following the chronology of the character’s life. Under each scene, I’ve bulleted the facts I need to cover within that scene. This allows me to draft a section much faster, as I don’t have to keep stopping to look things up. Will I have to verify these facts later? I will, in a later draft, so I’ve left page numbers and sources in the margins to help me track where I found the information. But I’ve suddenly shifted from moving at a snail’s pace to a hare’s, and I’m not constantly frustrated with the drafting.
Other tricks to get you moving faster
- Set the timer and do short sprints: If time is of the essence, or you find you’re having trouble focusing, set the timer for thirty minutes (preferably with another critique partner, but working alone is fine, too), and set a word goal. Put anything down. Race the clock. You’d be surprised how quickly you can write when the clock is ticking. Yes, you will have to revise it, but sometimes you just need to move forward. Oh, and shorter is better in this case! It enforces much more focused time.
- Working several scenes ahead: I’m a linear writer. I like to feel the pace and the tension mount over time as I’m drafting. This means I’ve had a lot of trouble giving myself permission to work on various scenes of the manuscript that aren’t “in order.” But suddenly, the last book I worked on, I decided, what the hell? Let’s just see what this feels like. I could picture the next two scenes ahead of the one I was working on, so I decided to go for it. I drafted half of one and parts of the other. After, I switched back and forth, finishing them. Something about working ahead helped me push through the block.
- If you’re blocked and can’t get anything down: This probably means you need to spend some time looking at the characters’ motivations and how they’re coming into play in the scene, as well as how this scene will drive them closer to an answer for their Big Question. OR, in the case of a historical writer (sci-fi writer or any novel that has lots of facts and world-building incorporated), it might mean you need to stop and research before you continue drafting. Research. Jot down things you want to cover in the scene. And go!
Some of us loooooove drafting. It’s your favorite part. I think I get that. There’s all of this unbridled freedom to explore and find the story; put anything down and go in any direction, at least theoretically. I’ll admit, that’s a cool concept and it absolutely works from some writers, but I just can’t work that way. To go in any direction with complete abandon means a lot more heavy lifting later, a lot of cut material, and also a fair amount of wasted time on the wrong story. It goes against my efficient nature.
But in the end, every book is its own animal, and what has once worked for me in the past may not apply to my next “sparkly new manuscript.” So I’m willing to try just about anything once, to see how it works. I’m always hoping some magical new trick will lead me down a path to writing my best book yet.
What about you? What tips and tricks do you use to navigate the drafting stage of writing? Have you tried anything new that turned out to be a big blunder—or home run?
Heather Webb is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of historical fiction. As a freelance editor and an adjunct in a MFA in Creative Writing program, Heather has helped many writers sign with agents and go on to sell at market. When not writing, she feeds her cookbook addiction, geeks out on history and pop culture, and looks for excuses to head to the other side of the world. To date, her books have been translated to seventeen languages.
Hey Heather – Good tips. I’m one of those who generally prefers drafting to revision, but I’ve been in revision mode for quire a long while. I recently had to toss a section of my WIP for a total rewrite. It took me several days of frustration in trying to repurpose the old prose before I came to grips with starting over. It was weird, how I clung to the old stuff. For no real reason.
Now that I’m drafting again, the freedom of it has provided a clear reminder of my preference. I guess my point is that we can get locked into a mindset. I have to constantly challenge myself to be unboxed by unhelpful tendencies and habits.
Thanks for the tips!
I wonder if clinging to the old stuff is because you’ve spent a million hours on it and it’s hard to let that go! I think that would be the case for me. Plus there’s the letting go of the odd parts that you really love…You’re brave and I applaud you for starting from scratch!
And you have an excellent point: drafting and editing require totally different energies and mindsets and, it’s easy to become stuck in one. Sometimes the act of working on more than one thing at a time helps me with this. (And sometimes it just makes me exhausted! LOL)
Thanks for your great insights, as always.
These are great tips, Heather. I’ve used the timer for a lot of things. Also, writing short. I’m a planner and plotter but I found Writing into the Dark by Dean Wesley Smith a great resource for just writing and getting things down.
Thanks for the recommendation! I love craft books so I’m always looking for new ones.
Prompts, prompts, prompts.
I have pages of organized prompts – lists of questions I answer in writing – about each scene, before I attempt to write it.
In the course of filling these out, I learn everything I need to have in my head to achieve the goal (yup – that’s a prompt, too) for the scene, and all the sub-goals.
The last step is to create a list of beats for the scene, loosely organizing everything in the lists, and to put the results of each prompt into the place where it will finally get expressed – as a line of dialogue, a bit of internal monologue, an action, a scrap of description.
With all that material in existence, writing consists in selecting a path from beginning to end, passing through the turning points (thank you, Donald Maass), and then having lots of fun with the actual words.
Because, ultimately, it’s one word after another.
Prompts are great, Alicia. I can certainly find them useful, myself. That said, I have to add in here that answering so many prompts about every single scene also means I’d never finish a book! :) It might be more efficient (at least for me) to apply all of those prompts to one chapter at a time instead. But I’m always glad to learn about what works for a fellow writer! Thanks for sharing your process.
My writing process is extreme plotting, followed by a single rough draft from beginning to end of a half-million word planned mainstream trilogy, followed by one scene at a time completely polished and finalized – until finished.
I have a damaged brain – this gets around its limitations completely for me. The first volume is out, the second half-finished.
I don’t expect ANYONE else to write the way I do.
Excellent advice, as always, Heather.
Go ahead and clump me into the deliberate writer group. Every word, sentence, paragraph, etc. must be perfect before I can continue. When I write, my process looks like a tornado, of sorts. I’ll write a few sentences and then loop back up, read, edit, add a few more sentences, loop back up a few lines, read, edit, write a few more, loop up, and keep that process going so that it comes together in a cohesive paragraph.
My works are also “semi-historical” novels. By that I mean, they usually take place in the past, so I have to research the circumstances and keep the historical timeline correct when I refer to things, like, who was president, songs of the time, cars of the time, places and events that may have happened. I like the idea of breaking it up into acts for both processes.
Thanks for all the advice to help me write more “swiftly.”
I hope it’s helpful, Mike.
I wonder if you could try to train yourself to write an entire page without editing, and then stop to revise it and continue on? I’m getting better at this. I used to be glacially slow at it all and do the tornado method you describe, but I’m learning to be more forgiving so I can just move forward.
Write on, brother!
Of course it was helpful, it was Heather Webb advice.
I have written pages and even short stories quickly before—it’s not that I find it impossible, it just takes a heck of a lot more editing at the end. I’m so repetitive when I do it that way: words, phrases, you name it. I’ve been trying to break free of my perfectionism. I think once I’ve done that successfully, the writing will flow more smoothly.
Hey Mike, your process is what Dean Wesley Smith calls cycling. It works pretty well for me too.
I, too, despise drafting! But I love Stephen King’s analogy that drafting is like unearthing a skeleton…most of it feels useless, until you have a “hit” and you suddenly recognize that you’ve unearthed a bone for that scene or chapter…something you inherently know will remain. The more you dig (draft), the more bones you’ll find…but there’s no way to find them at all until you sit at that blank page and get going. Great article Heather!
I LOVE this analogy, Sarah. Very evocative. Thanks for sharing. x
I love drafting. I’ve come to love editing. They’re as different as hot and cold. Editing is chill. I’m patient and deliberate. I stare. I ponder. I experiment. I explore. I develop.
Drafting? Red hot fire. Okay, but let’s back up a bit. I wait for the competing ideas in my head to coalesce into a story worth writing. Those ideas become messy notes. Notes become a short narrative outline of 2-3K. That becomes a long outline of 10-12K with characters and settings developing simultaneously. At that point I draft and don’t look back. A 120K fantasy novel requires a few weeks.
I’ve been editing different books all year. For several years I’ve had ideas in my head for a fantasy noir, but the heroine refused to materialize. Two days ago a minor character in Pneuma Key whispered that her story of redemption was what I needed. She was right. Yesterday, Talma Loyal became 1,225 words of notes so fast my fingers couldn’t keep up. Hot and cold.
You’re a busy woman! Write on! :)
I wish I had all of this “red hot fire” you speak of!
Heather, you hit it out of the ballpark with this one. So much truth and such good advice. Relevant at any stage of a writer’s career when that blank page is staring out at us. Which is like, all the time.
Thanks, friend! I’m glad to be helpful.
So many interesting ways to approach writing in this discussion! I’m always amazed at how many ways there are to write a book.
For myself, I don’t prepare outlines or pre-plan the story. I write the way I read–linearly, to find out what happens next. (I’ve tried the out-of-order thing. Does not work for me. Those scenes always end up orphaned.)
I discovered very early in my writing journey that if I plan out scenes or write outlines or even a vague synopsis, I completely lose interest in writing the actual story. To my mind, it only gets to be told once.
So, my first drafts tend to be at the sentence level, as I constantly edit and revise as I write–sentences, paragraphs, scenes. Sometimes the right words will come in a burst, and I’ll get those down quickly while they’re “live,” but that almost never lasts more than a few paragraphs. I’ve discovered that if I write too fast and too far into the scene, the story will run aground fairly quickly. IMO, the secret to writing successfully in true seat-of-the-pants fashion is to take lots of time to think about it and feel your way through the story. That way, when I’ve made a wrong turn, I can sense it within a few pages. All the energy and momentum vanishes.
So that’s what I do. It’s a slow process (and like some here, I’m also a perfectionist), but when it’s done, it’s done. I don’t have to look at huge, messy first draft and wonder how I’m going to make something decent out of it. The editing and revising has already been done along the way.