Second Draft

I opened up a new draft file for the next version of Things Between (my NaNo novel) this afternoon. That beautiful blank slate made my novel feel full of promise once again. All of the ill will and the frustration and the disappointments of the past 50,000 words were erased in that single click of the mouse.

In his essay, “Fear of Finishing,” Mark Childress writes that, in the mind of a writer, a novel is never better than when it’s unwritten. “After that,” he says, “it only gets worse. Every page you write is in some ways a tiny death… of the illusion with which you began. Every clumsy, unstructured, redundant sentence that you apply to paper is one less deathless, tripping, dancing, rhythmical, internally rhyming piece of brilliance.” I suppose it sounds incredibly depressing to a non-writer, but it’s true. My chances of being awarded a Nobel prize dropped immeasurably the moment I committed my first sentence to paper. Of course, they also increased immeasurably. As, it turns out, they don’t give out awards or glowing reviews or NYT bestseller designation to unwritten novels. It seems unfair, given how amazing those novels are, but alas, such is the way of the world.

I’ve always known that first drafts were, in the immortal words of The Bill Gaither Trio, “a great big bundle of potentiality,” but I’ve always feared and dreaded second drafts. They feel less like polishing a rough gem than beating a dead horse. This time is different, though. That new file seemed every bit as promising as the one I opened on November 1. It won’t stay this way forever, but maybe I’ll come out the other side and feel like my novel is just a bit closer to its deathless, tripping, dancing self.

1000 Actions
336. Wrote morning pages.
337. Submitted two stories.
338. Wrote morning pages.
339. Submitted to a contest.
340. Wrote morning pages.
341. Spent 30 minutes editing Things Between.