When I was writing up that halfway point post last weekend it struck me I haven’t really talked about drafts in a while. Obviously they come up here and there whenever I blather on about writing, but I haven’t gone over my process and what each step means for me.
Plus, this is kind of a perfect time to talk about it. There’s a lot of folks rushing to finish a first draft this month, or as much of one as they can (every amount is good!). I’m in the middle of a third draft, and I’m also batting a “finished” manuscript back and forth with my editor right now.
So let’s talk about the drafting process.
Right up front, though–”draft” means a lot of different things to different people. Technically it refers to the fact that, in ye olden times, you’d actually have to rewrite entire pages to fix a typo or adjust a line of dialogue because… typewriters. So you’d type up a page, mark it up by hand, and then type the whole thing up again. Possibly two or three times. Which was a lot of work and dedication when you’re talking about, y’know, 400 page books.
Today, thankfully, we don’t have to do that, so some people insist “draft” is an archaic term, or will flat out say they don’t do drafts but then explain their revision process. Because that’s really what we’re talking about. Revising and refining our manuscript again and again until it’s ready to show to folks.
Also, I’m going to try to cover a lot of things here, have a very open umbrella, all that, but the truth is I’m mostly going to be talking about my process. And there’s a really good chance my process won’t work for you. Not step-for-step, anyway. So take everything I’m about to throw at you with a grain of salt and don’t be scared to tweak any of it so it works better for you.
All that said…
I generally do five drafts of something before I send it off to my agent or an editor. That’s it. Each one’s a new document on my computer so I always have the last version to refer to if I want to check something or in case a cat walks across my keyboard and does something I cannot figure out how to undo. Ha ha haaaa but what are the odds of that happening? Again?
But it’s probably also worth mentioning that we all do—to steal a bit from Asimov—a zeroeth draft. We collect notes. We jot down ideas. Maybe we have a bunch of index cards we can move around or we do a full outline. And maybe that outline’s just a page or two but it could be twenty or thirty pages.
This early bit—the pre-draft—is very personal and we all have our own ways of doing it. And to be honest, it’s probably going to change a bit (or a lot) every time we start a new book. That first spark almost never hits the same way twice, so how we go from spark to fire is a slightly different process. And it might take weeks or months or even years. Again, different sparks, different fires.
But after that zeroeth draft, whatever form it takes, we’re ready to begin.
For me, first drafts are big, messy things. My only goal with a first draft is to get it done. Nothing else matters. Not punctuation, not spelling, not finding the exact right word or crafting the perfect cool line to end that chapter on. These things’ll matter eventually, but right now… I just want to finish this draft. Because I find it’s much easier to work on a completed draft, to fix existing problems, than it is to try to deal with all of it right up front before I start.
Worth nothing that I write a lot, but I also skip some things. I don’t want to lose momentum checking random facts or stopping to work out bits that turned out to be more complex than I first thought they’d be. If I know this chapter has to end with Ben getting a knife in the thigh, I might just put <BEN GETS STABBED> and come back to it later. I’ll probably have a better sense of things then, too.
Once I’ve got a solid first draft, I might take a day or two off (maybe poke at another project) and then start my second draft. For me, that’s saving draft one as a new document marked TITLE-2nd or something like that. Then I go through and start cleaning everything up. It’s time to actually stab Ben. Also to finalize Ben’s description, wherever it might come up. And look up some of those random facts, which will probably mean tweaking some sentences.
The real goal in my second drafts is to take the fast, messy thing and turn it into a solid, readable thing. All my plot and story bits should be worked out. I could hand this to anyone and they could read it, beginning to end, without hitting a weird gap or nonsense action scene or anything like that.
Doesn’t mean I am going to show it to anyone. But I could. It’s a finished story at this point.
My third draft is editing. Lots of editing. In On Writing Stephen King says his second draft is his first draft minus 10%. And while we don’t agree with the draft numbers, I do agree with the idea. Truth is, while we were enjoying all that forward-motion first draft freedom, we probably got excessive at points. Conversations ran on a little too long. Descriptions got a bit over-detailed. Action dragged out. I’m not saying it’s all bad—there’s a place for this sort of stuff. But that place probably shouldn’t be every page of my book.
So I go through the whole manuscript several times. I check all my spelling. I look for repetition and redundancy. Snip a lot of adjectives and adverbs. This involves a bunch of passes, which means I get to look at things again and again. And that’s when i realize i can cut even more words and sentences and paragraphs. Trim dialogue and beats and every now and then… whole chapters. And then there’s one last read-through to make sure all this random cutting and tweaking hasn’t created any new hiccups.
I’ve barely started this third draft of TOS –like, two days ago as I’m writing this—and I’ve already cut a few hundred words. And I’m only on my first pass through looking for excess words. I could do a whole post on that, if anyone’s interested, all the quick snips we can do to tighten things up. They add up fast.
At this point, I’ve got something fairly tight and solid. I’ve got a few folks I’ve known for many years, and now’s when I usually ask them if they’d be interested in looking through this new thing I’ve been working on. I think most folks have somebody like this. Maybe a few somebodies. Personally, I rarely want more than four or five opinions, and this is the only point I want them at. Believe me, there’ll never be a shortage of people willing to offer an opinion, and I don’t want to get buried in them right now because ultimately this is my story.
And during the month or so that they’re reading, I may do more notes on other projects, maybe outline something, or anything else that isn’t thinking about this book.
Once this small group’s gotten back to me with their thoughts and comments, it’s time for my fourth draft. This is another work-heavy one. Now I’m going through the manuscript line by line (again) with all their notes and taking a few notes of my own. How many people liked this? How many didn’t like that? Okay, nobody liked that bit.
Plus, I’m looking at it now after some serious time away, so I should have fresh eyes, too. In retrospect, wow, that’s some bad character-building. That dialogue is awful. What the heck was I thinking writing that?
Sometimes this goes fast. Other times… it’s really slow. The big thing here is me being open to what everyone else is saying. There will probably be some changes after this. I’ll also remind you of ye olde chestnut, if people are telling you something’s wrong, they’re probably right. If they’re telling you how to fix it, they’re probably wrong.
And when I’ve gone through and done all that, it’s time for my fifth draft. Now I read the whole thing again. Slowly. Carefully. I want to make sure the whole thing flows, that all of these tweaks and changes haven’t created any odd problems, or that I haven’t just left something incomplete. Like this paragraph, which was incomplete all the way up until my last read-through before I hit “publish.”
Worth noting at this point we’ve read through this thing at least five time, possibly many more with all those editing passes, and it’s very likely we’ve just become blind to some things. We’ve just looked at this page again and again and again, and we’re possibly seeing things that aren’t there and not seeing some things that are. Something I like to do here is switch everything to another font, because that change forces my brain to readjust. Now I’m much more likely to read each page than just look at it, if that makes sense?
And this is kind of it for me. Once I’ve hit save on this fifth draft, I’m done with the manuscript. Some people may find that a bit shocking—writing is rewriting, right?—but I find there’s a danger of ending up in an endless loop of rewrites-feedback-more rewrites-more feedback. Let’s be honest—there’s always something that could be tweaked and adjusted. If we don’t have a stopping point, we’re never going to start anything new.
Plus… I mean, there’s going to be more rewrites. My agent’s going to look at it, and he might have a few thoughts. If it gets bought, my publisher and editor will definitely have some thoughts. I’m going through that right now, like I mentioned up top.
And then hopefully, after all that… you get to read it.
Speaking of which, I need to get back to edits.
Next time… okay, look, we’re heading into the holidays. So there’s going to be the regular Black Friday post, probably a “cool things I read” post, something for the end of not-NaNoWriMo… and then maybe we could talk about cats and dogs.
Until then… go write.
