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Tyranny of the First Draft

It is a question I get a lot: Do you think Hans Christian Andersen really thought about the kind of things that The Book Architecture Method teaches, like scene and series and theme? First of all, there’s evidence that he did: the original title of “The Ugly Duckling” was “The Young Swans.” Thank God he changed that, huh? It would have ruined everything…and besides, that title is just not good!

On a more serious note, the change in the title indicates that Andersen became progressively more aware of what he was writing—and that he made an important choice regarding what he wanted his story to be about. That is known as “cresting the mountain” in our method, having assessed honestly what your book is about so that you can go further into what you want it to be about.

But let’s go back to the original question. Do I really think Andersen thought about his craft to the level that we are thinking about his craft, and our own?

Underneath this question are two unstated assumptions:

  • Andersen and other “famous” writers are better writers than we are, and don’t need to go through the same processes that we do. Because they’re just geniuses and stuff.
  • Thinking too hard about what you are doing creatively will ruin it, because that’s somehow not Zen. Or at least that’s not where true inspiration comes from.

To a certain degree, the kind of magical thinking that these assumptions represent is natural. We are engaged in creating something new. Because it is new we don’t know where it came from, by virtue of it not having been here before. We might even pray to this mysterious source, anthropomorphize it and try to speak to it (and listen to it!)

I know I do. But that’s different from believing that every word that came to us the first time is qualitatively better than any word that will come to us the next time. When we persist in believing that certain elements in our document can’t be rearranged or eliminated—that they came, in other words, and that’s that—that’s when we start to suffer from the tyranny of the first draft.

It might just as well be called the “tyranny of the previous draft,” because any draft that is done, that has been sent to an editor or is sitting in the printer, is somehow more authoritative than what we will produce in the future. But judging from the past fruits of our creative process, this feeling is only an illusion. Everything changes. It’s the courage to help our material evolve that we need to summon, so that it can actually improve, as opposed to stagnate or try to intimidate us.

 

 

LINKS

The Book Architecture Method: Method page

better writers than we are: Just not that Good a Writer

listen to it: Role of the Prompter

sent to an editor: Stop Writing now

Kaye Khalsa said on Nov 3, 2011 at 12:13 PM:

Hi Stuart,

Oh, yes, this is so true. I have to admit that I have been Ralphie in "The Christmas Story" movie, daydreaming about my own brilliance, only to come back to the same writing months later and find it was just plain and bad, or self pitying-worse.

Thank you for giving me the courage and permission to chuck a character that just was not working. I am having lots more fun and feel so much more optimistic. It is changing the tone of the entire novel-whahoo!

With your help, I have stepped out of the shadow and away from the tyranny of the evil queen and it's feels good. Great illustration by the way.

Kaye

barbara ensor said on Mar 6, 2012 at 12:47 PM:

Hi I suffer from an even worse curse which is the opposite of thinking every word that came to us the first time is qualitatively better than any word that will come to us the next time.
Every time I sit down with my damn manuscript (that's its name) I am convinced, absolutely sure, that the new words I am writing are better than the old words on the page. Needless to say this is very scary and destructive and many of my readers wax nostalgic for little things that have been lost. I don't know what causes it, perhaps a surfeit of creativity which I am often accused of. Creativity can be a curse. the purpose of this post is to
a)draw anyone else out of the woodwork who shares this curse so we can commiserate in endlessly reworded ways. ad nauseum. forever. and on.
b) or failing that, to simply gain pity.

c) to commend you on this excellent website!