Struggling Through a First Draft

Right now, I’m struggling through the first draft of Charcoal and Smoke, Book 3 in the Elemental Artist series. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote this:

“The steps to publish were much easier the second time around, but I found the hard deadline set by the preorders extremely stressful. So stressful that I’ve decided to wait on setting up preorders for Book 3 until I’ve drafted it.” — Writing the Second Book in a Series, March 4, 2022

When I wrote it, I meant it. I mean, I’d just spent six months sweating to get Graphite and Turbulence done and dusted before the preorder deadlines.

However, this month, Oil and Dust is the Serial Read from Barnes and Noble.
(Side note: Oil and Dust is free to read on the Nook app during March 2022, so if you’ve wanted to read it, this is a terrific time!)

Not only was being selected as the monthly serial read an amazing opportunity… Barnes and Noble had one more opportunity for me. But, it came with one string attached: Set up a preorder for Charcoal and Smoke by the end of the month, and we’ll schedule an upsell promotion for the second book.

I’d been eyeing the 3/23/23 as a possible publication date (palindrome!), and I will write and publish the book… so how could I say no, right?

Right?

The Pressure of a First Draft

I wrote the first draft of Oil and Dust in 80 days (late 2017/early 2018). I finished the first half of Graphite and Turbulence in 45 days (2018) and wrapped it up last year (2021). Heck, I wrote my middle grade novel in 27 days. If I did it then, thrice, why am I struggling now?

I find revisions painfully slow, so when I’m revising and feeling sorry for myself, I allow a brief wallow in the golden-tinged memories of drafting. Of wrapping myself with words and watching the story unfold on the page with delight. Bucolic remembrances of floating in languid pools of creativity while story spools out of my imagination effortlessly.

But you know what?

These memories are crap, because writing a first draft is hard.

I’m a third of the way through Charcoal and Smoke, in good part because of the productivity I found at Rainforest. Sure, I’m getting the words down, but can I tell you a secret?

I haven’t yet found the fun in it. This is in part because I haven’t managed to turn my editor brain off, and it continues to evaluate every paragraph I write.

“Is that detail necessary?”

“Does this piece of dialogue move the plot forward?”

Lately, an even more insidious voice has been muttering in my ear as I’ve labored to drag each word, each sentence onto the page. “Maybe editing is the best part of the process…”

Who even am I?

Struggling with a First Draft is Normal

Okay, to be fair, drafting is not always hard. Sometimes, you fall into the flow and words do pour out. When this happens, they arrive so fast you don’t have time to judge them. I think this is where my delicious memories of drafting come from.

Some scenes are so intense they suck me in, and afterward, I’m almost gasping with exertion.

Others are… painful. Slow. The words stick together, and go clunk when they hit the page. The characters sigh and nod. No one says anything meaningful. They stand around bored, waiting for me to create something they can get excited about. These scenes haunt my thoughts when I’m away from the manuscript. My editor brain wants to go back in and try again while my drafting brain folds its arms and sulks.

I have a friend who suggests we first tackle the scenes we’re most excited to write. She starts with the big scenes and then goes back to write the quieter ones and builds the connective tissue. Her book is marvelous, but her process would never work for me. I use the exciting scenes as a carrot. As I near the end of the second act, my writing (and heart rate) speeds up. The exciting conclusion is my reward for working through the setup and progressive complications.

Keep Going

In Bird By Bird, Anne Lamott has a chapter titled: Shitty First Drafts. Her argument is that a bad first draft is a normal part of the process.

“I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much.” —Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

Even if her book wasn’t enough to convince me (but it did!) I’ve written about this struggle before, when discussing how many drafts it takes to write a novel and in picking up a story thread.

I know transitioning from editing to drafting is rough on my brain. I’ve experienced feeling unhappy with a first draft. And even though I’ve been here before, I still felt that frisson of panic. Of doubt. If you’re currently waddling through the muck—stuck in your first, first draft—welcome to the club.

So how do we get past this sticky, icky, writing-is-hard place?

 “You can always edit a bad page. You can’t edit a blank page.” —Jodi Picoult

This is the mantra I chant as I chug along with my terrible first draft. And you know what? I believe it, truly, because I’ve been here before.

You Can Finish Your First Draft

Even if the process is painful, even if your characters stand around bored, even when your words go clunk, keep going. Because if you don’t, your book will never be, and that’s the genuine tragedy.

If you’re experiencing painful drafting, doubt about your story, or you’re not convinced you have what it takes to finish your first draft, know you’re not alone. Together, let’s suck in a deep breath and grind forward.

If you’d like to read more of Lamott’s thoughts, go buy her book (affiliate link). Meanwhile, I found a pdf of her “Shitty First Drafts” chapter on the University of Kentucky’s website (also available here).

Oh, and go read Oil and Dust for free on the NOOK app. Tell your grandma, tell your dentist, tell your kid’s third-grade teacher. Meanwhile, please ignore the stench of word combat wafting from my office as I continue to noun-wrestle and verb-tussle.

Clunk.

Header Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash