Ah, the first draft. The first step on the long staircase to publication, held together with the writing equivalent of duct tape and prayers. If you squint, it looks like a novel, but it’s never quite what you thought it would be, is it?

It’s almost Nanowrimo time, meaning that millions of people about to start a brand new first draft – some of them for the very first time. If that’s you, welcome to novel writing! I’ve got a few more posts coming over the next few days that are specifically geared toward Nanowrimo. To kick things off, here are a few things you should know about your first draft.

A first draft’s purpose is simply to exist

A first draft is the bridge between an idea in your head and a book on your shelf. They represent the first form of your story to actually exist on the physical plane. It will not be the story you have in your head. Some things will be missing from it. Other things will need to be cut. For some reason, it will always be the thing you were most attached to. This will be annoying. At some point (probably many points; let’s be honest) you will look at your first draft and think, “God, what a heap of crap.” And you’d be right. It is a heap of crap. Just as nature intended.

A first draft, you see, is not doing the same thing as your novel will eventually do. It is, like I said, more of a bridge than an actual novel. Finishing a first draft is a huge accomplishment, don’t get me wrong – but don’t feel discouraged if it feels more like the beginning of the road than the end of it. That’s because it is.

The point is, if your first draft is there, then it’s good. There is really all it needs to be. Redefine your idea of what a “good” first draft is, and realize that it has nothing to do with what makes a good novel, and you’ll be much prouder of yourself — as you should be.

It’s probably going to be short

While the goal for Nanowrimo is a 50,000-word first draft, a bit of cursory googling will show you the typical novel is much longer than that. While there are a handful of highly acclaimed novels around 50k words (The Great Gatsby and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, to name a few), the vast majority of books on your shelf are probably between 70,000 and 150,000 words. So where did all those words come from?

Not from the first draft, I can tell you that. Most people’s revision process, from what I have gathered, involves a whole lot more adding things in than taking things out. A first draft does not need to have everything in it – not even close. It’s not meant to capture the entire story, but rather its essence: the bare bones of the plot, the central characters, the main thrust.

Realizing how normal this is can be extremely freeing. A novel is a big place, and if you’ve never written one before, it can feel like you’re juggling a lot. Give yourself permission to drop a few balls. Neglecting a subplot or leaving out foreshadowing is fine. You’ve got plenty of revisions for that later.

It’s not safe for human consumption

Your first draft is not ready to meet people yet. It’s like you when you first get up in the morning – it needs to drink its coffee and get dressed before it’s ready to leave the house. You could be really excited to share your writing with people – or, if you’re like me, faintly dreading it, but still feeling the pressure – but try to resist.

If your first draft makes sense to you, it’s because you’ve read it four million times, and you have an image in your head that fills in the gaps. It’s impossible to put into words how utterly different your vision of your first draft is going to be compared to that of someone who’s coming in completely blind. Don’t put your friends through the bizarre, confusing experience of reading someone else’s first draft, and don’t put yourself through the equally unpleasant experience of realizing two drafts later that you let the absolute worst version of your story ever to exist out into polite society. If you really must, share it with a trusted writing buddy or your writing group, and ask them more questions about the potential they see in the story than the meat of the story itself. In fact, this is a large part of what writer friends are for.

Whatever you do, do not publish that thing. Do not query it, do not submit it anywhere, do not gift a copy to your neighbor. You can thank me later.

It might be fluid, and even chaotic

Some people, so I am told, are able to create an outline that works on the page exactly like they thought it would on the first try. I am also told that everyone who knows a writer like this kind of hates them. I believe it. If this is you, good job. Please understand how lucky and bizarre you are. This section is not for you.

Most people’s first drafts, no matter how carefully outlined they are, are a little bit all over the place. They change as you go, which is very much to be expected. First drafts are mostly about throwing plot, characters, and worldbuilding at the wall and seeing what sticks. Things might slide off the wall halfway through, or spring back up off the floor after you’d already forgotten where they fell, reattaching themselves somewhere completely unexpected. Something you outlined painstakingly for days might fall off immediately. Something you panicked and threw at the wall to fill the gap might become the stickiest thing of all.

This is the reason a certain type of writer hates first drafts – and the reason a whole other subset of writers absolutely love them. If you’re in that first group, have hope. The first draft is one tiny part of the writing process, and like reorganizing your closet, sometimes making a big mess all over your floor is the necessary first step toward polished, picture-perfect cleanliness.

Keep your chin up, embrace the chaos, and enjoy the ride.

Happy first-drafting!