Mention the term “First Draft” in my presence and I start to twitch. Once the magical honeymoon phase of pre-writing ends and it’s time to, you know, write the story, I often find myself staring at a blank screen. Several thoughts pass through my head, all variations on the following:
- How the hell did I manage to finish and revise my last story when I can’t seem to start this one?
- I love the premise, I love my characters. So why are the words not flowing?
- I just wrote 500 words and they all suck. I’m a hack.
- Author X tweeted she wrote 4000 words yesterday. I only managed 750. Why can’t I write faster?
- Yesterday was a fantastic writing day, but today I can’t figure out what my characters should be doing.
- One of my secondary characters is annoying me. I need to kill him/her off. Oh, wait: This isn’t a supposed to be a suspense story, and I’ve already had two characters meet gruesome ends. Damn.
- I just typed “That supercilious scoundrel confiscated my honey!” If quotes from Disney’s Winnie the Pooh are sneaking into my WIP, I am, quite literally, losing the plot.
- I need chocolate/coffee/wine/retail therapy and I need them now!
In truth, I’m a re-writer, not a writer. The joy of writing truly begins with the second draft. Once I accepted this about myself, I was finally able to retire my Queen of the First Three Chapters crown and finish a book. Silencing my internal editor is something I still struggle with at times, but three completed manuscripts later, I know it’s essential to do so if I want to reach a minimum word count and type ‘The End’.
From a prose point of view, my first drafts are the very definition of Anne Lamott’s delicious description, the “shitty first draft”. The true purpose of my first draft is to get to know my characters, and to produce rough sketches of the important scenes in my story. By the time I finish, I know my characters inside and out. I know what I need to change in the story to reflect the decisions they’re likely to make, and I know how they would deal with the consequences of those decisions. As my stories are primarily character-driven, I use this knowledge to tighten the plot and heighten the tension in subsequent drafts. Paying conscious attention to my choice of words comes during the final polish, although they’re usually good by the time I reach that stage.
To use my last completed manuscript as an example: My first draft was 60,000 words long. Of those 60,000 words, I’d rewritten half, revised 30%, and added 12,000 words by the time I finished the final draft. That means just a fifth of what I wrote in my first draft remained unchanged when I submitted the book. (In case you’re wondering how I can be so precise, I am one of those anal individuals who keep spreadsheets for absolutely everything, but more on those in a subsequent post.)
I submitted my most recent manuscript at the beginning of the month, and I’m now at the very stage I mentioned above: the pre-writing is done, and the actual writing of the story is in its infancy. There’s been a certain amount of staring-at-the-blinking-cursor this week, wondering what on earth I’m going to put on the page. So how do I deal with this? I know I need to produce words and drag myself through the first draft. If I don’t, I’ll never have the chance to tell the story that’s been rattling around in my head for months, and which won’t appear on the page in any readable form until well into the second draft.
Over the course of two blog posts, the first of which I’ll publish tomorrow, I’m going to give an overview of my method for dealing with the dreaded First Draftitis. It was created through trial and error (it entailed a lot of error, trust me), and by utilising the bits I liked from other people’s methods as outlined in their blog posts, workshops, or writing reference books. The first post deals with the pre-writing stage. As I said above, this is the part I love about first drafts. In fact, it’s the only part of the first draft process I enjoy. 
The second post deals with making it through the first draft, and the techniques I use if I hit a snag.
Recommended Reading for Newbie Romance Writers:
Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott (It’s not a craft book as such, but a highly amusing take on the realities of life as a writer.)
Writing a Romance Novel for Dummies by Leslie Wainger (Great for people who’ve never put pen to paper, or who’ve never attempted writing a romance novel. It looks at everything from analysing the various romance subgenres to advice on submitting your manuscript. It’s probably too basic for more experienced writers, but a nice jumping off point for newbies.)
12 Point Guide to Writing Romance by Kate Walker (Kate Walker is a prolific author for Mills & Boon. While some of her advice is weighted towards writers of category romance, most of the points apply to all romance subgenres. The writing exercises and worksheets alone make this book well worth the price.)
GMC: Goal, Motivation and Conflict by Debra Dixon (One of my absolute favourite craft books and one I use again and again. I’m including the link to Gryphon Publishing as it’s a hard book to track down.)
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing Erotic Romance by Alison Kent (As with the Dummies book, this is an overview of the romance genre with a specific focus on erotic romance. Much of the advice given applies to all subgenres, and there are some fantastic tips on building sexual tension and writing sex scenes which pack an emotional punch.)
