Why your first draft is allowed to be butt-ugly
Here’s your permission to write badly
The first chapter I ever ghostwrote for a client took me three weeks to finish – and that was just the first draft.
Although I’d been writing professionally since 2003, I picked up my first high profile ghostwriting client in 2021.
And in my daft head, I thought I had to absolutely nail the first chapter before I went any further in the book.
That first chapter wasn’t complicated. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been. The problem was that I’d write a paragraph, go back, rewrite it, rewrite the surrounding paragraphs to make the original paragraph make sense. Over and over and over. I’d sometimes find myself stuck in a continuous loop for hours.
Then I’d get to the end of the four pages, think it was a load of crap, and start again.
Three weeks for one pigging chapter.
I could have travelled around the world in that time.
It was while I was heading into my fourth week that I saw a quote that I’ve abided by since:
“You can’t edit a blank page. Stop trying to write the final draft first.”
I’ve passed that line on to almost every storyteller I’ve worked with since.
Perfectionism is not the friend you think it is
I often liken writing to sculpting. You start with a lump, you then work out the rough shape, and you narrow everything down from there. What you can’t go doing is adding the finishing touches to that original lump.
It’s the same with writing. For most, the reason storytellers keep going back and refining a sentence for the umpteenth time is because of fear. This is fear that what you produce won’t match the version of the book that exists in your head. It’s fear that someone will read it and think you’re not as good as you say you are. There’s also a fear that the whole thing is some stupid mistake.
‘Who do I think I am writing a book?’
Here’s a thing I’ve learned since 2003 – you can’t go running quality control on first drafts. They’re not meant to be perfect. In fact, a first draft is just you telling yourself the story. It’s not for public consumption. Therefore, it can be butt-ugly as you like.
Your first draft has just one, single job to do
A first draft has one job: just to exist.
That’s all there is to it. You’re not out to impress anyone because no one’s going to read it. It won’t be the version that ends up in print. Think of it as simply emptying your head of all your ideas. You need something to work with – that lump that sculptors use. All you’re doing with a first draft is getting your lump onto the workbench to work with.
As you work through your first draft, some of it will be decent stuff. Some of it will be a cringe-fest. But take it from me – that’s how it should be. It’s supposed to be like that.
All of this is normal. Every single published author has a laptop full of first drafts.
It’s all part of a process. Stop fretting.
Good writers allow themselves to be bad writers
I’ve coached a lot of people on writing their books over the years. Many of these have since gone on to publish their books. What’s always impressed me are the ones who have gone away and diligently worked on their books. I can tell you now that there’s nothing special about their writing. The only difference is the fact that they’ve got something down on the page, kept going, and then gone back to refine it all.
They’re the ones who just get to the end of the chapter in the full knowledge that it’s nowhere near perfect. But hey – they’ve got a first draft to work with instead of a blank page.
How to get the job done
Give yourself a daily word count target for each session and hit it. I’m not talking quality targets here. I’m talking quantity target. Five hundred words. Six hundred. Whatever your session allows.
When you reach it, stop. Finish off the sentence you were writing and close the document. Remember to save it, obvs.
In your next session, don’t go trying to work on what you wrote the previous day. Just keep writing. You’ll be going back to edit the whole thing once your entire book’s first draft is written. But that’s a job for another day. You’ll also find that you can edit easier once you’ve got the whole picture laid out in front of you.
Your mission: just get that first version down in black and white.
Every author has been through the same process.
So I’m giving you permission to write a butt-ugly first draft.
I look forward to seeing it.
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This Sunday: How to write in your own voice when you’ve never written a book before, including three exercises that will help you sound like yourself on the page, as opposed to an AI robot.
Yes, my first draft is me telling the story to myself. It is ugly. It is messy. It is mine.