Your First Draft Doesn’t Have to Be a Masterpiece
Layer your work instead
My first drafts are terrible. Ramblings, incomplete storylines, no sense of order or cohesion.
The second and third drafts aren’t much to brag on, either, but I don’t stress about them as much as I used to.
Why?
Because I’ve learned the value of layering my work.
The Process in Action
One chilly winter morning in 2021, I turned on the electric fireplace in my office. The holidays were forthcoming, but instead of the usual spark I get at Christmastime, I felt sad.
As I warmed my hands before the blower, I envisioned a young woman staring into a real fireplace. Her house was cold, like my office, and she was depressed.
I reached for my trusty writing tools and captured the thoughts swirling in my head. I quickly filled two pages with a scene involving the main character, Jaq, and her recent heartache.
I was on a roll. I jumped to another page and captured a series of events that would serve as my base storyline. More characters popped into my head, and I noted their basic traits and connection to Jaq.
As my notes progressed, I discovered why she was cold and why she was depressed and alone. Over the next seven weeks, I drafted an entire book around Jaq’s heartache and a wealthy family’s attempt to destroy her.
As I reread the text, I liked the story and the characters, but it lacked depth.
So my next review focused on the details. From descriptions about the town and what the characters were wearing to the food they ate and the drinks they consumed, I set about making the story more real.
My initial focus was Jaq, but as I revamped the scenery and layered in elements of the town and its residents, I realized its significance.
The Prescott Diaries was born.
A Case Study
At a fundamental level, layering about telling versus showing. But it can also lead you to unexpected plotlines and character developments.
I revised my novel multiple times. With each version, I layered in more details to convey the mood, setting, and character traits.
Here’s an example of a simple statement about a drive that morphed into a reflection of the Worthington family’s invasion and Jaq’s disgust with the town she once loved.
Draft text:
Jaq had never driven anywhere as fast as she drove from her house to the hotel. The lamplights were a blur as she sped along the highway. … The Cornelia was one of several hotels Cara’s family owned.
Published version*:
Jaq eased into second gear and picked up speed. She passed office buildings and newly built townhomes, their silvery lights filling her windshield. Christmas wreaths hung from lampposts, thin layers of snow coating their crimson bows. A banner from last weekend’s Christmas parade flapped in the breeze, welcoming her to downtown Prescott.
The landscape evolved with each passing year, but the recent changes outweighed anything she ever envisioned for her town. Small, dated high-rises had given way to condos and luxury apartments. Historical buildings morphed from near dilapidation to pristine elegance. All courtesy of Lawrence Worthington and his family’s conglomerate.
Jaq’s head pounded as she slowed for the next light. The Worthingtons were a cancer, taking root and gobbling up everything good. She didn’t care how much their business invested in Prescott, or its claims of bringing “the nightlife to the mountains.” Just because Great Grandmother Cornelia grew up on land that formed the riverfront did not make them the founding family. Prescott was a collaborative effort, a group of pioneers unafraid to venture from the resources and populace that formed most Georgia cities.
Yet, many of the locals — people she always assumed held similar values — shifted their priorities when the Worthington family returned. People she once respected, like Calvin Miller, owner of Derringer’s Sporting Goods, and Sandra Watkins from Treats Galore, no longer spent their energy on serving the town. They were too busy chasing photo ops with Cara or Lawrence to further their social media presence.
When the real estate branch of Lawrence’s company snatched up acres of prime real estate north of the city, no one in town questioned the motives. No one except Jaq.
She frowned. Others might chalk up the Worthington acquisitions to a love of Prescott, but benevolence and altruism were nothing more than talking points coined by media consultants. Lawrence Worthington took what he wanted, with no regard for who he trampled on.
Like his purchase of a dilapidated hotel in the heart of downtown. It had nothing to do with saving Prescott or even expanding the family business. Appointing Cara to renovate it was nothing more than a father’s attempt to keep his youngest child out of rehab.
Jaq gripped the steering wheel again, her emotions as white-hot as the poker she used to stir embers in her fireplace. Of all the places to spread their influence and wealth, the Worthingtons had chosen her peaceful town. And nothing had been the same since their arrival.
Draft text:
The mess continued from the living room all the way to the kitchen, where empty beer steins and plates were piled on top of one another in the sink.
Jaq glanced at her watch and realized it was Christmas Eve. Her mood worsened at the thought of her cold, empty house with only thoughts of Ben to occupy her mind.
Published version*:
Beer cans and soda bottles littered the floor, and a half-smoked cigar lay on the coffee table, ashes strewn around its tip. Wrapping paper and other party favors crunched beneath Jaq’s feet as she maneuvered the maze otherwise known as her cousin’s living room.
Liquid stained the carpet, and memories of the alleyway behind The Cornelia flooded Jaq’s senses. It smelled like beer, but there were no guarantees. Before her gag reflex could kick in, she made a detour around the stain, scooping up a half-filled bottle of rum perched on the edge of the hearth. The glass felt cool against her palm, and she carried the bottle to the kitchen, where the mess continued all the way to the sink. Empty steins and plates were piled atop one another, and Jaq eyed the stack, trying to determine whether she could retrieve the scrub brush without toppling the
entire thing.
She peered around the wobbly stack and froze at the sight of a Santa Claus cookie jar by the window. Cheerful, with rosy, red cheeks and a full belly, the oversized container was once a staple in Grandma’s kitchen. Nestled inside the entryway, she and Sam used to help themselves to homemade goodies every time they entered.
The dark cloud of sadness returned. It was Christmas Eve, and she had nothing but a cold, empty house to return to. Not at all like years past, when the family gathered at the farm to roast marshmallows, sing off-tune Christmas carols as Andy tinkered at the piano, and make hot cocoa and cookies for Santa from scratch.
Christmas was once her favorite time of year. But the Worthingtons had ruined that, too.
The Trick to It All
Getting it “right” is not a matter of striking gold on the first attempt or writing a perfect first draft… It’s a matter of pushing past the first (or tenth) draft.
When you accept there is more to the story than you might grasp at first, you free yourself to write without restraint. You let your imagination lead you to new and unexpected places.
Sometimes, these layers are logical. You add details to paint a vivid setting or incorporate just enough backstory to justify a character’s actions.
Other times, the details don’t reveal themselves until later. One key detail in my book, for example, did not surface until I neared publication. Had it popped into my head earlier, I’m not sure I would have heeded its purpose. But when it surfaced in the later stages, I didn’t question its value.
Taking It One Step at a Time
While layering is not my intent when I write — especially given the extra work it entails — knowing I have an unlimited canvas on which to create eases my anxiety about what’s next.
I don’t expect a masterpiece with the first attempt. Like photo-editing software, I start with the base layer and add more elements until I achieve the result I want. It becomes a treasure hunt of sorts.
Next time you write, do so with the knowledge you can go back over your text as many times as you need. With each pass, you’ll dig deeper into the heart and soul of your characters, your settings, and the plot.
Preview the first four chapters of The Prescott Diaries for free.
