Everything starts out as a first draft, be it the smallest poem, to an entire freaking novel. And because of some–for now– secret reasons, I’d like to talk briefly about the sensation of completing the first draft, the brain dump, the raw creation.
More specifically, the mental process I go through when I finish a first draft. And perhaps you do as well.
1st: The Glory: “Oh God! I finished it! Yes! After all that, it’s done. It’s out on paper. It no longer needs to sit and tap on the inside of my head demanding to get out.
2nd: The Crash: “Ugh, it feels like a part of my brain just got forcibly pulled out through my fingers. This creation I’ve learned to love, then hate, then tolerate, then respect, and not always in that order, is now out of me. I have an emptiness. I will never create again, that is all of it. I am spent.
Which goes into:
3rd: The Flood: “Wait, oh yeah, I forgot I wanted to do that project too. That’s such a cool idea. I could work on that next…no that one. No, the other one. I can’t write all of you! Stop it! I’ll pick one! No, bribery will not get you picked first!
4th: The Guilt: *Looks back at the completed first draft, and notices all the errors and problems* “No! Stephen King said to leave you alone for at least six weeks. I must leave you there. But I promise, I promise, I will come back for you. I will not forget about you!”
Now, I’ll admit that was a tad dramatic of a description, and not how every project goes. But generally, that is the emotional curve for me. And as I get faster and more productive I am experiencing it more and more.
Even though I know it’s coming, I keep chasing it. Creating with little hesitation. Pouring out words.
Being a writer is a bit like having an addiction, isn’t it?