Writing a book is chaotic.
For me, it begins with the nub of an idea, a general setting, an image, or just a feeling. From there, it becomes a tangled mess of ideas and inspiration that I wrestle into an outline.
There’s a lot of back and forth, a lot of note taking and brain dumping. And a lot of angst. 😫
Eventually, I get to a point with the outline where I feel like I’ve got a story on my hands.
Then I start drafting.
Each draft is hard in its own way.
First drafts begin with a magical feeling. An act of pure creation. The words fly out of my hands … for a little while.
Perhaps 10k words in, those twinkling lights flicker. I soldier on. At some point, the batteries in that initial flutter die, and I have to rely on the outline to be my guide in the darkness.
At intervals, the light returns, teasing me, egging me on.
A great scene, a killer quip, a simile that makes me smile.
Towards the end, I feel the darkness lifting. The climax is coming. The moment I’ve planned for.
And … it’s never as good as I imagined it to be. I might enjoy it. It might be good. But, it won’t be great.
Yet, the first draft is complete. After a few months of toil, I can say ‘finished’.
For now.
At that point, I do my best to forget about it. I definitely don’t start reading from page 1.
While it sits, I work on a different book. Could be another first draft, or more likely, one of the drafts that comes after. After that draft is complete, I come back to my baby.
I read it. I take notes. I put myself in the eyeballs of my readers.
Once I’ve read the manuscript, I do another brain dump. I do another outline; an evolution of the first.
Then I do the next draft. I might just do a line edit (rare, but sometimes I write a scene I’m happy with out of the gate). I might chuck out whole chapters, much as it pains me. I might even rewrite 60% of the book (looking at you, A Phantom in the Forge).
The process repeats. I finish that draft. I work on a different book. I do the next draft. On it goes until the book has all its edges, bindings, and no pages are falling out.
It gets harder the more drafts I do.
It’s harder to use my reader’s eyes. That’s when I ask beta readers for help. They light up the dark spots I can’t see anymore.
Then I draft again. Now I can’t leave problems hanging around to solve in a later draft, because that later draft has already come.
I’m at that stage with A Phantom in the Forge right now. The story is bleeding out my ears.
The end is close. I want it to be done, but there’s still a distance to run.
I’ll get there. And you can be sure you’ll hear about it when I do. 😀