It's customary to speak in terms of first draft, second draft, etc. Often copyediting and proofreading get their own billing, and rightly so. But I think I'm seeing a pattern in my own work where there's a qualitative difference in the editing phases.
First draft happens when the story feels done in the sense that all the elements are there. Somewhere in there. The story is still a mess, there are gaps, and maybe even a few unanswered questions, but at least in the latter case I have a list of possible answers and just have to choose among them.
That's a place of wretchedness. Everything could happen. Anything could happen. Maybe I should just toss it all. Learn to play the saxophone.
But somewhere in the process, which consists mainly of diving into one tangled mess after another and just deciding I'll get this _one bit_ sorted and worry about the rest later, somewhere along that jungle path things get clearer.
Not necessarily easier, but easier in one important way: I start to see how things gain order. This bit here, it really needs to be in a later chapter. How I fit it in remains to figure out, but at least I see where it must go. I see this secondary character has to remain, but this other can be shown the door, thanks for your service. What was done by that character gets rolled into this one. It's big chunks of story that click into places with a satisfyingly dramatic sound effect. They become the unalterable parts around which the rest of the story must arrange itself.
Maybe we can call all that the second draft. It's the phase where things are moving into place. Third draft would be fitting in the rest. Or maybe it's just on to copy editing and continuity work. However that may be, I'm happy to see any sort of patterns in how I work, because there was a time that my work process resembled a toddler throwing a tantrum.
First draft happens when the story feels done in the sense that all the elements are there. Somewhere in there. The story is still a mess, there are gaps, and maybe even a few unanswered questions, but at least in the latter case I have a list of possible answers and just have to choose among them.
That's a place of wretchedness. Everything could happen. Anything could happen. Maybe I should just toss it all. Learn to play the saxophone.
But somewhere in the process, which consists mainly of diving into one tangled mess after another and just deciding I'll get this _one bit_ sorted and worry about the rest later, somewhere along that jungle path things get clearer.
Not necessarily easier, but easier in one important way: I start to see how things gain order. This bit here, it really needs to be in a later chapter. How I fit it in remains to figure out, but at least I see where it must go. I see this secondary character has to remain, but this other can be shown the door, thanks for your service. What was done by that character gets rolled into this one. It's big chunks of story that click into places with a satisfyingly dramatic sound effect. They become the unalterable parts around which the rest of the story must arrange itself.
Maybe we can call all that the second draft. It's the phase where things are moving into place. Third draft would be fitting in the rest. Or maybe it's just on to copy editing and continuity work. However that may be, I'm happy to see any sort of patterns in how I work, because there was a time that my work process resembled a toddler throwing a tantrum.