I’ve taken a break from my first novel – Love and Distraction – and in the gap I’ve written the first draft of my second novel – The Same As You. It’s complete at 81,756 words, compiled, and sent through the ether to my Kindle for reading, when I can face it. The plan is to go back to it after Easter 2025 and wrestle the beast into literary submission.
And am I pleased with it? It’s difficult to say. I am pleased that I can write a first draft in three months, while working full time and continuing to operate approximately as a human being. But I’m doubtful of the novel’s quality. Just because I’ve written the thing doesn’t mean I’ve ever read it.
When I’m drafting I never go backwards; I read the preceding couple of sentences before a writing session and no more. There’s no fixing up continuity errors, tracking back to add character motivation, or removing subplots that I’ve completely abandoned. Consequently it’s a rat’s nest of conflicting narratives. It’s not the book I started to write (it’s not a book that anyone would write!) and what I’ve ended up with is two books jammed into one. Or maybe no books at all – who knows?
But this is the discovery draft, the shitty first draft, the draft that no-one other than me will ever read.
But it exists, and that’s the point.