This is arguably the part of my process I get the most questions about.

This step has a lot of nicknames:

  • The Fast Draft

  • The Fun Draft

  • The Trope Draft

  • The Black Hole

  • The Trash Can

  • The Dumping Ground

  • There are many others (that probably all have to do with garbage)

I like to think I’m really good at comparing things to other things.

It’s one of the lessons I learned from Lemony Snicket, who said, “Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.”

I’ve compared the writing process to a great many things. A box of Crayola crayons was the most memorable. There were at least four others though.

But the most important comparison is building a body from the inside out.

This is the comparison I feel most attracted to at this moment. Because if writing is like building a body from the inside out, the heart, the soul, is the thing that comes first.

That is the Zero draft.

All the technical things come later.

The bones are your inevitable structure.

The gallbladder, appendix, and liver are your worldbuilding (in that if you’ve got them and they’re working, then great, but if they’re not working, you definitely notice something’s wrong, and sometimes have to remove things that are at risk of rupturing).

Your flow is your cardiovascular system — all the intricate little veins that ensure every piece is getting the right blood flow.

And at the end of all this, if you’re lucky, you’ll put a cover on it (and that’ll be your skin).

But still in there, still beating, still shining, is the heart and soul of your story.

It’s the thing you’re most excited to write. And by the end of the whole ordeal, its purpose is to make your story function. The zero draft contains the parts of the story that keep you going when you so desperately want to quit.

The Zero Draft

You just write it.

Sorry.

That’s it.

There are so many rules for other pieces of the writing process, and I’m sorry if this is a shock. But you just do it.

How to write one

  • Pretend like the backspace button doesn’t exist.

  • Do ten minute writing sprints. You can learn more about sprints here.

“Can I do twenty minutes?”

“Can I do twenty-five minutes?”

This is your zero draft. Not mine. In the nicest way possible, I don’t care.

Ten minutes gives me enough time to get stuff down without concerning myself with the content. Anything more than ten minutes, and I’m trying to delete stuff. Which is not the point of the zero draft. Do whatever you gotta do.

  • If anything takes you more than three seconds to think up, skip to the next sentence.

I’m serious. Don’t finish your sentences if they’re bugging you. They don’t matter. They’ll be rewritten anyway.

Some general tips

(and no, I can’t believe I’m doing this).

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