I’ll say it again: Don’t compare your first draft to their published and polished.
This is a phrase I’ve used a few times on my Instagram (@the.fox.and.pen follow me friends!) and with some writers that I know, and I want to use this blog post to clarify what that means exactly. So, of course, I’m a part of quite a few writing and self-publishing forums, networks, and groups, and I always see some form of the same question: “What if I’m not a good writer?”
It seems to follow the same pattern. The writer has been practicing their hobby for quite some time, they are (as they should be) a voracious reader, they’ve started—but not finished—several manuscripts, and they are feeling very discouraged. They tend to say things like “I just feel like my ideas aren’t original enough,” or “When I read what I’ve written, I just hate it, it doesn’t sound anything like the books I love!”
If you’re a writer, or even a published author, and you feel this way, let me just start by saying you are absolutely not alone. Almost everyone feels inadequate as they write. Writing—creating in general—is such a vulnerable process. It’s a matter of painting your soul onto many-paged canvas. And then you have to show it to someone. Your feelings, no matter how intense they are, are normal, but they should absolutely not stop you from writing.
But let’s get to the meat of the matter, or those thick, delicious mushroom raviolis, if you’re a vegetarian. Many writers feel their ideas aren’t original enough. That’s just garbage. Your ideas ARE NOT original. They aren’t. No ideas are. If you go too far out of your way to make an original idea, chances are your manuscript will be difficult to read and not relatable. But let’s put it in different terms.
I love roller coasters. I love books, cats, video games, and roller coasters (and my family and best friends, but they’re along for all the rides). Roller coasters have a few things that coaster-heads such as myself are looking for: speed, a great drop, a loop or five, and some airtime. There are other things as well, but this is a metaphor so let’s not get too bogged down. Some coasters don’t have loops, some don’t have big hills, some have a launch start, others have a lift hill…man I really love roller coasters. Anyway, for the most part, the basic elements of a roller coaster are all the same, but that doesn’t stop thrill seekers from traveling all over the world to ride as many different ones as they can. Why? The execution is different. The feeling is unique. And the rider will remember the rush being different from one to the next.
Your ideas being completely original are not as important as execution. Your reader won’t care that you’ve basically re-written Romeo and Juliet, as long as they’re entertained and moved in the process. I mean, look at how many retellings of Romeo and Juliet there are!
But what if you don’t feel your execution is good enough either? There are a few things that can help you improve your writing. Reading—as much as possible, as varied as possible—is the biggest thing. Read books about writing, but also just read literature. Read classic authors and new authors and authors in genres that you’re not familiar with. Every response you have to a book is a good one, whether it’s “Wow, I want to write more like this” or “Wow, I could do a way better job than this.”
Secondly, just write. Writing is one of those beautiful hobbies where doing the thing helps you practice the thing. If what you’ve written truly is bad, you haven’t wasted anything—not even time! You’ve practiced and honed your art, and you’ve learned something.
But, mostly, you absolutely cannot compare what you’ve written to a published piece. Your first draft should be word vomit, it should be terrible. It should literally be just anything you think of, as you’re thinking of it, in some sort of coherent order. Would you compare a baby’s knowledge to an adult’s?
A book you take off the shelf has been through an entire gamut of processes to get to that point, with a full team of professionals behind it. It’s had a first draft, and then a number of drafts after that. It possibly had a developmental editor, a beta reader, and a line editor. It’s hopefully had a copy editor and proofreader. Agents and publishers have looked at it. It’s gone back and forth from the author to various other publishing professionals (depending on the type of book it is, there’s way more people that I haven’t mentioned) countless times. When you turn on your kindle or gently fold open that spine, you are appreciating the culminated efforts of the author and a full team of people supporting that author’s vision. Your first draft is, simply, not that.
So, to end this post, and to bring you some solace and hopefully a mental health boost, I leave you with a few of my favorite quotes from authors about why the first draft is so important—and why it’s also generally trash.
