Why Most Writers Never Finish Their First Draft
(and how to make sure you’re not one of them)
It’s easy to say you want to be a writer.
Most people who say they want to write a book…
never actually do the first part: write the book.
They announce it.
They buy the fancy notebook, or twenty.
Do the work to secure the programs, galore.
They then dedicate six months to conceptualizing the world, generating ideas, and discussing the book's content, while investing no time in actually writing the first chapter.
So… how do you actually write the first draft?
Here’s the part no one wants to hear:
You don’t wait until it feels right.
News flash: It hasn’t felt right since you thought of the idea.
You don’t wait until you have more time.
Another shot in the dark. You’ll never have more time.
You don’t outline the hell out of your idea until it becomes perfect.
Characters have a mind of their own.
You don’t outline for six more months.
You don’t need better software.
You don’t need a course in how to write.
Just write the darn thing down. Get it out. Spew it on the page. Write it. Type it. Do whatever you need to get the story from your headspace onto a page.
Write it badly on purpose.
That’s it. That’s the secret.
But since we’re being helpful and not judgmental, here’s how to do it without emotionally combusting… maybe:
1. Lower the bar. Then lower it again.
Your first draft is not a book.
It’s a messy pile of scenes pretending to be a book.
If you’re trying to write something beautiful, profound, and marketable on Draft One, congratulations — you’ve chosen Expert Mode for no reason.
SHHH, there aren’t many who would even want to do it this way…even if they can. Why? Because that’s not fun. “Who wants to be that writer?” The person who succeeds on their initial attempt, uttered sarcastically. “Everyone and no one are mutually available to insert, however you see fit for this answer.”
Instead of mounting up a wild amount of pressure, just write.
The only job of a first draft is:
👉 exist
👉 have a beginning, middle, and end
👉 not vanish into a folder called “someday”
Ugly pages > imaginary perfection. All perfect!
2. Pick a tiny goal so you can’t argue with it
Don’t say:
“I’m going to write a novel.”
Say:
“I’m going to write a…
Insert the following:
• one scene
• one chapter
• 20 minutes
• one terrible paragraph
Your brain can fight big goals.
It has a harder time fighting small ones.
Momentum is built on annoyingly achievable targets.
3. Write Out of Order Like a Criminal
You do not have to start at chapter one.
The best part of writing is that there are no rules for how your story will develop. There are writing rules. Sentence structure, and all that English Lit jazz. But you can’t be sure on day one where you will end up. So, don’t overcomplicate the process by binding yourself to the stale structure of Chapter 1 followed by Chapter 2.
You are not morally obligated to write chronologically.
Write:
• the fight scene
• the kiss
• the betrayal
• the ending
• the cool moment you keep daydreaming about
You can stitch it together later like a Frankenstein manuscript.
Chronological drafting is optional.
Forward motion is not.
Write whatever feels right. If you can’t write anymore in a section…..move on. Its okay, it will still be there. Tiny worker bots will not sneak into your script to finish your story. It will get there. Maybe today is a day you focus on part A. Tomorrow you may return to complete that other part. Or you may scrap the whole chapter. It’s okay. That’s the best part of writing it down.
4. Leave Notes Instead of Quitting
When you get stuck, do not spiral into:
“I don’t know what happens next, so I guess this book is dead.”
Instead, write things like:
[insert argument here]
[they kiss but make it sad]
[figure out how she escapes later]
That is still drafting.
That is still progress.
There’s an option of quiting this part. Maybe this part doesn’t work in your overall story. Don’t be afraid to delete. That’s not the same a giving up.
Quitting is optional.
Placeholders are powerful.
You have to…
Know when to hold it.
Know when to fold it.
And know…..well, you know what I’m singing.
The first time you hit a block doesn’t mean quit. It means pause. Let this part sit. You may come back to it. You may decide it doesn’t belong. It’s okay. It's still an idea. And who knows, you may come back years later to add it to another story you haven’t thought of in this moment.
No rules, remember.
5. Stop rereading what you just wrote
Rereading is revision cosplay.
I am guilty of this myself. I will read and read and read it again and again. Especially if I want a specific feeling to come through on the pages. Becuase of that, I’ll talk at you instead of from experience…Teehee.
They say it feels productive.
They tell me it is not productive.
I can’t tell you not to do this, even though I do it very much for some of my scenes. What I can say is don’t let this hold you back. If you are editing, writing, and rewriting the first sentence, you have a long way to go in a world of endless looping to reach a full manuscript. Maybe that’s when you apply this "write it and forget it" motto for now.
Your first draft does not need to be good. This is true. And I rarely do the endless looping on the first draft. It’s when I’m really invested in a scene. Even then, I have to walk away from the pages to give myself time to think about something other than my characters. To live in the world. And sometimes…this does the trick.
Future you will fix it.
Presently, you just have to dump it out.
The Real Rule of First Drafts
If you are asking:
“Is this good?”
You are asking the wrong question.
If you are hoping your friends and family are going to do more than give you moral support, you are writing for the wrong reasons. There are too many people in the consumer world for you to focus on the small circle, which is probably your reason for being self-conscious.
The only valid question is:
“Did I write today?”
Because the only writers who finish books…
are the ones who keep writing even when it’s awkward, boring, and deeply unimpressive.
Which is most of the first draft.
If you’ve been “working on a book” for six months and still don’t have a Chapter One…
This is your sign.
Go write it. Badly. On purpose.
And if you want more tough-love writing advice that actually helps you finish things instead of just thinking about them,
and come back next week.
We’re doing this draft. No excuses. No aesthetic procrastination.
Don’t forget to