Some writers see their scenes like a movie. They hear the sounds, smell the smells, and feel the whole thing before a word hits the page. That’s a gift, but it can also slow you down, because it’s hard to settle for the bare bones of a scene when you can see all of it in your head. If you want to write a lean first draft, the trick is to get the story down now and save the polish for later.
A writer in my community recently asked me whether she should just write the bare bones, get through the scene, and add the bells and whistles later. My answer is the same one I give most first-time authors: get the lean first draft done.
In this article, you’ll learn:
- Why a lean, bare-bones first draft teaches you more than a handful of perfectly polished scenes
- How the “perfect book” in your head holds you back, and how to get the real version onto the page
- What to leave for the second draft so you finish faster and stop polishing scenes you’ll end up cutting
Momentum Is Everything
Writing is really, really hard, and momentum gives you the energy to keep going. Slow progress, on the other hand, can be quite disheartening.
If you’ve never written a book before, the best thing you can do is get to the end of a first draft and say, “Okay, now I know what that’s like.” Then do it again.
You Get Better With Every Scene
Even if you’re writing bare bones, 50 scenes is 50 scenes. You’ll be a much better writer by your 50th scene than you were at your first.
So if you write quickly, you get to come back to scene one as a writer who is 50 times better than the one who first wrote it. Either way, you’ll be a better writer when you finish the book. Why not get there quicker and then start adding the bells and whistles?
Your Perfect Book Only Exists in Your Head
There’s another reason to hold off on polishing: your hypothesis about what the book needs isn’t always right.
Think of the old idea that everything on earth is an imperfect replica of a perfect, ideal version. Our books are perfect in our heads, the best thing ever. Then we put them on the page and end up with the real, earthly version.
That’s what the big read is for. You look at what you actually have and ask what needs to change and what can stay. You’ll be surprised how much changes. Whole acts get moved, characters get merged, and a plot point you were sure was essential turns out not to be.
That’s why chasing every bell and whistle in draft one (or even draft two) is more than slow going. It’s potentially wasted time and energy. You might write the best scene ever, realize the book doesn’t need it, and then have to cut something you spent a ton of effort on and feel attached to.
What Writers Tell Me After the Fact
I’ve worked with hundreds of writers. In my experience, about 95% of them have said, “I should have done that first draft quicker. I should have just plowed through.” Almost none have told me, “I wish I’d spent more time on that first draft.”
Writers in my community have lived this. One told me her second book felt like one long flow state because of everything she’d learned drafting and editing the first. Another said her first revision was heavily overwritten, with whole subplots and characters that didn’t survive. But every word she cut made her a stronger writer, and she’s far better at scene structure now than she was a year and a half ago.
A Middle Ground
I’m not saying there’s one right way, or that this is how you should always do it. I grew up punk rock, all “radical, radical,” and as an adult I’m now a “moderation in all things” guy. A year and a half on a first draft is probably too long. Four weeks is probably too fast. There’s a middle ground in between.
And once you’ve written a couple of books, you’ll know what works for you. You’ll know what you’re good at and what you’re not. You might decide, “I’m not great at this one thing, so I won’t try to get it right this draft. I’ll come back and spend a whole day solving it.”
But the first time through, you learn so much from the process, and you get so much motivation from making progress. That’s why I recommend what Anne Lamott famously calls a “shitty first draft” in Bird by Bird. A lean first draft is the way to go a lot of the time.
Ready to finish your first draft? Start with the bare bones, get to the end, and come back to add the bells and whistles once you know what your book actually is.
If you want help getting there, book a free call with a writing coach, or take a look at my programs for writers.
