I was really tired last night. As I was trying to repost the blog from yesterday I found myself reading over it and noticed the writing mistakes. This is the hallmark of first drafts and of sleep-drunk writing sessions. Knowing what does not work helps me to focus in on what does work. Lately I have taken to using the sounds of rain and thunder as a white noise backdrop to my writing time. This is a better measure than music (which can distract and often mellow) and YouTube (which completely co-opts my attention). The method is working and I believe that I am starting to adopt a rhythm in terms of when and how I write. It is working to make me fall back into the process and be less concerned with the outcome.
Writing is a process. It is the slow pressure build and boil off of life to me. I get to sit in a space and create something almost every day, and every day that I do I am proud of myself for being able to get there. Think about that for a second: How many times a day do you really think about being proud of yourself. Most things are either disappointment or expectation. Video games are a perfect example of this. I expect to win a game of Madden. I am disappointed when I lose. The joy of winning comes from knowing I should win and fulfilling that prophecy and not from any particular innate joy of the process of winning. Here as a writer I am proud of the process and I am working to place as little expectation as possible on the outcome–at least in terms of a first draft.
What saddled me with worry and guilt was the concept that the first draft needed to be the finished draft. It hardly ever reached that standard, but I sent out first drafts all the time. In fact I published so many first drafts that I am either an exceptional author or I am not the only one practicing this way, thus lowering the overall quality of published writing across the spectrum. I think it is B.
If it is B, imagine the upper hand I get with a well revised draft!