
So you’re about to embark on a new writing project. That means starting a fresh, crisp new first draft.
Writing a first draft is both exciting and bewildering.
On one hand, the potential of the blank page frees the writer to run wild with ideas.
On the other hand, it’s inevitable that at some point the writer will feel utterly lost, like the story isn’t worth the digital paper it’s written on, or like it’s all a load of crap.
Whether you call it a first draft, a rough draft, an initial draft, or a vomit draft, the very first draft you write is the birthplace of your manuscript.
Think of it like the foundation upon which you will build your house. The foundation doesn’t need to have all the bells and whistles yet. In fact, it doesn’t even need to be good. It just needs to be there.
(This is especially true for longer works like novels and feature screenplays.)
But it’s a serious struggle for most writers. Many less experienced storytellers hit a brick wall and fail to complete even a single draft.
That’s why I put together these expert tips to help guide you on your journey to complete the first draft of your new story.
Know your goal
When you write your first draft, you must always keep your one end goal in mind: complete the draft, come hell or high water.
It’s very common—even for experienced writers—to get partway through the first draft and feel like questioning everything about your manuscript.
It’s also easy to get trapped in a state of analysis paralysis that prevents you from moving forward.
Here’s the secret: Don’t ask questions. Don’t analyze anything. Don’t get stuck in second-guessing yourself. Here’s why—
Accept that it will suck
Yes, your first draft will suck. All first drafts suck. Sure, a professional novelist may produce a better first draft than an amateur but even their first draft sucks compared to the final product.
Your first draft will be terrible and there’s nothing you can do about it—and that’s okay.
Accept that what you will initially produce will be what some people call a “shitty first draft” or a “vomit draft.”
Once you’ve accepted this, you can cast that baggage off and begin writing.
Here’s the secret: Don’t worry about doing the best possible job right now or whether the manuscript is any good or not (hint: it’s not). Your job is to let creativity flow as you complete that terrible first draft, and let it be terrible.
Don’t stop, no matter what
Remember when I said don’t stop and question or analyze anything? You also shouldn’t go back to rewrite anything—not even a little bit.
If you go back and start rewriting now, it’s so easy to get caught in the all-too-common trap where you can’t stop going back and revising the incomplete manuscript. Then you keep rewriting and rewriting and soon feel overwhelmed that you aren’t making any progress.
Many writers who fall into this trap give up.
If you stop to analyze or rewrite, you’re working against yourself. Don’t do it.
Besides, seeing the complete draft can change your perspective on the story. In fact, many of the changes you make will be wasted because they no longer belong in the manuscript.
So why waste dozens or hundreds of hair-pulling hours revising a first draft that you already know will be a steaming pile?
Here’s the secret: Only look forward. Never back.
If you get lost, consider outlining first
In the process of moving forward, some writers may find themselves getting lost in the forest.
Personally, I need to make an outline beforehand that keeps me focused on the direction of the story, what happens when, character interactions, story/character beats, and so on. I’m not one of those people who can remember everything about my stories all the time. (Let’s just say that my stories tend to get a bit complicated.)
It’s okay to make some revisions to your outline and move things around, but don’t get carried away. It’s also okay to save some things from the outline for future drafts instead of trying to cram them in right now.
Here’s the secret: Do whatever you want with the outline, but don’t forget that its purpose is to get you to the finish line: a finished first draft.
Keep a separate to-do list
If you’re like me, then as you vomit the messy first draft onto the page, you’ll think of things you’d like to do differently, items you’ve missed, ideas for future drafts, and so on.
Instead of stopping progress to work on those right now, I keep a separate file of to-do items for the next rewrite. I bucket these items into big things, medium things, and small things.
When it comes time to take on the second draft, I’ll start with the big items and work my way down to the small items. This is because solving bigger issues tends to resolve smaller issues automatically.
You can learn more about this incredibly effective rewriting technique called the Laundry List method.
Here’s the secret: Relieve your brain of those nagging fixes by recording them in a separate file you can reference during the 2nd draft. (Or make
No revisions—zero
Seriously. Don’t do it.
A minor edit becomes a slightly larger edit. Then, you see something else that isn’t quite right and decide to make another edit. Before you know it, you’re head-first in revising material that may not even survive to the next draft.
It’s part of a problem called scope creep and it’s one of the biggest trap budding writers can fall into.
Here’s the secret: Most writers get stuck on the first draft because they jump to revising too early. Instead, give yourself permission to make edits and revisions later, otherwise you can end up trapped in a sinkhole of endless edits because of something called…
Avoid scope creep like the plague
Scope creep, aka the kitchen sink syndrome, is a project management term that refers to a project in which new additions or requirements are added after the initial scope of work is agreed upon.
Usually, this doesn’t stop at one addition, but a cascade of requests that cause the project to become a never-ending morass with no end goal in sight.
In writing, this means you keep adding new things to do, new ideas, thoughts about revisions, juicy tidbits you want to work in somewhere, and so on.
During your initial draft, it’s tempting—oh so tempting—to stop pushing forward and go back to make changes on pages you’ve already completed.
Don’t.
Just don’t.
No buts, just don’t.
Here’s why: As with the “no revisions” rule (see above), avoiding anything that changes or expands the scope of the project—aka complete the first draft—threatens the completion of your manuscript with added scope. Soon, these small changes add up and you’re left with a bloated, incomplete draft that’s spun out of control to the point that you feel overwhelmed.
Here’s the secret: You have one task and one task only. Do not deviate from your objective. The scope of your project is to complete the first draft, whatever form and quality it takes. Give yourself permission to write badly, to leave blank spots, and unanswered notes for later, all in the name of moving forward.
Relax, you’ll have the chance to clean up the vomit draft on the next pass.
Bonus Tip: Advice for Drafts 2 & 3
Now that you have a complete, albeit rough first draft, it’s time to move on to draft 2. You don’t have to start on draft 2 right away—in fact, I urge writers to let it sit for a few months and come back later with a fresh pair of eyes.
But when you do return to your manuscript, your objective for draft 2 is only this: make it better than draft 1. You have no other obligations. Writers who think their draft 2 will come out 100% polished and ready to publish are only kidding themselves.
Instead, consider that your draft 2 will be the first complete and readable draft of your story while acknowledging that it will still leave room for improvement.
When it comes to draft 3, again your only objective is this: make it better than draft 2.
As a professional writer, draft 3 is often as many as I get for contract work, but when it comes to writing a creative manuscript, I like to add a “polish” draft after draft 3 in which I touch up the prose, dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.
Just know that longer works often take more than 3 drafts. If you’re a screenwriter collaborating with a development team, you may need to write 7 drafts or more, whereas a seasoned novelist writing genre fiction may need less.
How many drafts you need depends on your experience, skill level, and personal process. Don’t feel hedged in by any specific number of drafts or what other people do. Just do what works for you. That’s how you will get the best work.
What’s your process for finishing a first draft? Let me know.



