Slipping the Draft
While I am not a huge race fan, I am shameless about snagging a decent metaphor wherever one can be found.
There is a concept in NASCAR called “drafting.” This happens when one car follows another very closely to benefit from the lead car’s wind shadow. Plus, the second car gets sucked along in the lead car’s draft, resulting in better fuel mileage so important in a long race.
An associated concept is important when the second car “slips the draft,” or steers sideways to escape the leader’s draft. Can’t win if you don’t pass; however, when slipping the draft, fuel mileage plummets when facing the full force of the headwind without the leader’s protection. It is usually worth it, though, IF you’re in possession of certain resources such as power, skill, and an iron will to cross the finish line first.
So what about the writing thing?
Unwittingly, I just surpassed 100,000 words in my latest writing project, a thriller entitled, “Fractured Dreams,” my most ambitious novel to date. It is both a sequel to my debut novel, “Dangerous Dreams” and a prequel to my second, “UpLife, Reality 2.0.” Neat trick, huh? Such a feat is not without a cornucopia of writing challenges!
Enter the metaphor…
When I realized I could write these two nested stories forever but wanted to finish this book, I thought I might start “slipping the draft.” Time to enter serious editorial mode, which means I’m:
- Deciding how to narrow my storyline to fit within one book, leaving room for additional stories in the series of books to come,
- Rearranging scenes and chapters to make overall sense of one story (the prequel of my second novel that takes thirty years in the future) as it weaves its way through another (the sequel to my debut novel that happens in the present day),
- Recovering from the inevitable timeline discontinuities and plot hole issues, using devices such as flashbacks, flash forwards, dream sequences (carefully!), and character maps!
So why this metaphor in this article? No, I haven’t gone daft (draft having lost its ‘r’). The term “draft” in a literary sense, as you writers already know, refers to less-polished versions of our manuscripts before we publish them.
We associate the word rough–ironically, since a rough draft is usually easiest to throw out there—with a very early version of our writing when we’re more concerned with just puking out the initial story line, time line, character and setting sketches, heroes, villains, and their relationships, and myriad other dimension to erasing the blankness of the page.
Maybe we started out with a one-paragraph premise and a bunch of what-if questions, or an outline. Maybe we even jotted down one or more working (temporary) titles. And we most certainly tried to keep tension and conflict in mind as we scratched out scenes that pit our heroes and villains against each other. Maybe we tortured, maimed, married, or killed off a few characters in the offing.
When do we combine scenes into chapters? That will probably happen later when we revise our manuscript into a “first draft.” This is where we transition from puking out a rough draft to something that more closely approximates a still-too-vague-but-readable manuscript, end-to-end. Maybe not yet?
Each of us punish ourselves with our own unique style and workflow. I’m describing mine. But they all share a common emotion… anguish. Maybe doubt too.
Later, sometimes much later, once a drafted manuscript has a chance to marinate in its own juices, we might produce a “final draft.” Some authors solicit feedback from collaborators. Others wait until a more alleged perfection can be achieved. I say alleged since this perfection fantasy is why so many manuscripts never escape the author’s hard drive. Because no manuscript is ever perfect, whatever that means.
I promise I haven’t forgotten my feeble metaphor.
So at some point, the time comes for all these scenes and chapters to make more sense with each other to a reader, hopefully all your readers. While I wouldn’t consider my current project’s draft final yet—holes still exist, and I realize I need more detail in settings, as well as to tell less and show more—I need to slip my drafts, accelerate toward my final draft, and pretend I’m serious as Hell about thrusting this manuscript a quantum leap closer to completion.
That time is today.
This requires courage and a sustained iron will. I’m overcoming doubt that this piecemeal collection of hundreds of scenes will EVER become a cohesive story that folks will want to read more than spending time on so many other interesting diversions life offers.
I’m getting a handle on the need to edit stuff out. The thought of deleting scenes, much less entire chapters, is hardest for me, because as every writer knows, every single word we commit to paper or screen is precious and necessary. Every serious writer knows that is unadulterated bullshit.
Daunting headwinds threaten to slow my progress now that I’ve slipped my draft, but I can’t snag the checkered flag for my victory lap without facing those headwinds.
Even though I may question whether I can achieve this lofty goal, I must trust my resources, such as they are—knowledge, skill, desire, and willingness to accept criticism once I get closer to the finish, closer to “The End.”
I’m confident in my strong BEGINNING (a compelling ‘hook,’ inciting event, key event, a couple of respectable plot points)
And an even stronger END (some surprising plot twists with a few pinch points, an engaging extended climax, and a strong resolution for both major story lines).
In fact, these to are so strong, they are magically closing in on my MIDDLE (where hero transforms from a runner to a chaser, love interests blossom, and the villains start to get their asses handed to them on fancy-ass platters) to offer readers two entertaining tales in one book.
Whew! Now I just need to slip the draft long enough to ensure the entire manuscript is engaging, plausible, and fun.
I can do this!
With pen in hand… Gene
P.S. Watch for “Fractured Dreams,” available late 2019.
Books by GK Jurrens available on Amazon:
