You’ve probably heard that when you start drafting, you should just write and write until you get through to the end. The writing will be rough no matter what, and revisions await—so just get the thing done at all costs! You can work out the problems later.
I don’t disagree! But in my own writing life, and having worked with thousands of participants in writing workshops and through one-on-one consultations, I’ve seen many a writer get so frustrated at the drafting step—even when they know it’s “allowed” to be super rough—that they lose faith in their idea or in their own abilities, or both. Too often, we give up entirely, and that’s a shame.
So—how to finish a writing a novel draft when the plan you made (or, the idea you ran with for those who write without a plan) just isn’t panning out…? The key is remembering that planning can take place at any time in the drafting stage, not just before you get going. (And even “pantsers” can pause for a moment and make a brief but helpful plan to get them back on track!)
Don’t Give Up—Assess!
I think we can all agree that in many aspects of life, sometimes things don’t go according to plan. In fiction writing, this seems to happen all the time. Even when we make a solid plan, we start writing, and things change. This can be terrific—even magical! Often, however, the opposite scenario occurs—the draft is not turning out like we planned, and it’s draining our writing energy.
Stop
If you can’t press on with your very rough draft and get to the end, your first step is to give yourself the permission to temporarily stop drafting. You haven’t failed. You’re stopping in service of your story. How you speak to yourself about stopping is crucial here. Frame it this way: I’m hitting some snags in my draft. It’s not going the way I thought it would. Pushing on is draining my creative drive and preventing me from moving on. I’m going to stop for a while and figure this out.
Quite often, our self-talk in the “I’m stuck” scenario is more like this: This draft is a failure! My ideas are going nowhere and there’s nothing good about this story. I can’t write anymore. I’m horrible at this. It’s too hard. I’m quitting. (Ick! I don’t even like reading this! So, let’s agree to go with the first version of self-talk when we decide to “Stop”)
Take Stock
Ok—you’ve stopped because you’ve acknowledged there’s a problem with your draft, a “creative leak” so to speak. Well—let’s find it (and plug it!).
Here’s where you do some deliberate soul-searching. Remember, we’re not telling ourselves that the whole thing is a disaster (and it’s not! that’s just self-talk gone awry!); rather, we’re acknowledging that we’ve hit a snag or two.
Spend some time pondering what’s bothering you most about your draft, the biggest snag. Trust your gut, your writer’s instincts—really lean into what they’re telling you. Do you suspect that the characters are falling flat? That there are big gaps in your plot? That your story’s chronology lacks logic? That the point of view you’ve chosen isn’t the best for telling your story?
Even if you come up with a laundry list of problems, zero in on the biggest sticking point. Like pushing down that first domino, often dealing with that “priority problem” has a way of knocking out the other issues…Let’s work smart so we can get back to our draft!
Plan
You’ve stopped and taken stock. You’ve zeroed in on what you think is the biggest factor holding back your writing flow. Now your job is to spend what would have been your drafting time trying to address the big issue you’ve identified.
Depending on the problem, planning can play out in all sorts of ways. It might mean coming up with a new outline or storyboard if gaps in your plot are your biggest concern. It might mean consulting a writing guide or video tutorial that discusses the issue you’ve identified. By “plan” I mean some sort of non-drafting action that helps you to unsnag the snag you feel is holding you back. Again, there are no rules here. Trust your creative instincts to lead you toward the actions you need to take.
Here are two examples from my own writing journey:
In my current work-in-progress, despite going in with a fairly well-thought out outline, I was having severe story- logic problems. (Basically, I have several interconnected journeys going on in my plot, and where and when things were happening were creating contradictions and impossibilities.)
I had the feeling that some visual aids were needed to sort things out and suggest solutions. First I created an exceptionally badly-drawn map of my story’s world (you do what you have to do!). Second, I made a calendar where I could note key story events. Suddenly, I could see exactly where things were going off the rails, and where I needed to adjust the timing of events and even alter the geography of my world (hey—I’m the author!). Stepping outside my story, I saw ways around the problems that were keeping my writing down. The fixes were pretty simple. What a shame had I just declared my draft hopelessly flawed and thrown it all away!
Now sometimes the snag holding back your draft might be more nebulous—more of a “feeling” thing. For instance, when I was writing my middle grade novel Frostbite Hotel, I had that niggling feeling that the story playing out in my draft didn’t have the richness it had in my mind. I stopped and took stock to figure out why. My gut told me that it had to do with my characters: they were getting embroiled in an escalating series of antics, which was fun—but I wasn’t buying their motivations, their why.
I decided I needed to do a bit of a character study, particular of the three characters whose conflict with one another drove the action. I didn’t have a formal plan for this study. But, following my instinct that I had to get to know my characters on a deeper level, I began writing some notes about them. I made columns and charted what each character wanted and needed—what exactly was driving them to do what they were doing.
Unintentionally (but wonderfully!) the columns let me compare my characters with one another and explore the dynamics that existed—or could possibly exist—between them. My notes revealed connections between my characters I hadn’t noticed before, common drives that made their conflict a lot more interesting to me on a human level. Through my planning notes, I found the richness that I personally needed to motivate my own writing!
Now, Frostbite Hotel never became a heavy-handed study of human nature because of this exercise—but I believe the story resonates with audiences—and that the draft actually got done—because of the meaning I found in the characters I was creating! I’m glad I took the time to plan midway through my draft instead of deciding it was irredeemable.
Next time you hit a drafting snag or frustration, don’t despair and quit. By taking a breath, admitting that there’s an issue in your draft and seeking it out, and then experimenting with solutions, you’re not only able to get yourself out a jam and get back to writing— it can help you to gain creative confidence. You’re learning to trust that, rough as it is, you have valuable ideas to build on. And where things aren’t crystal clear, you have the creative capacity to find a solution.
Looking for more strategies and tips to get through that first draft? Check out my book The One Week Writing Workshop: 7 Days to Spark, Boost or Revive Your Novel.
