If you write anything with even modest skill these days, chances are you’ve gotten the request, by someone, to write something for them. Many people feel that since they’re not technically writers by their own definition, they need something to work from; starting from scratch is intimidating!
A first draft, however, seems to make writers out of us all. That is to say, those who formerly had no clue of how to begin suddenly have thousands of ideas about how to chop a first draft apart. It’s like tigers watching a wounded zebra limp around – automatically, they start salivating.
Maybe this first draft is really all that was needed for the person to then rewrite the document themselves with appropriate changes. My frustration at these changes is, embarrassingly enough, often in spite of the fact that they are improvements on my first draft.
You see, it’s not that I don’t see them as improvements. It’s more that these requests are so often handed down (at work or amongst friends or whatever) in the most general of terms. “Hey, I have no idea what to do on this,” or “Do you think you could write this for me?” are the first words I hear.
Fair enough. I ask a simple set of questions about target audience, length, tone and so forth. I have never gotten very specific answers to these queries, so I either find my own previous examples, or skim someone else’s and set to work. The end result, I hope, is close to what the person envisioned.
And then I hand over the first draft and like predators drawn to injured prey, they attack! Ideas come flying out, pages and paragraphs are lopped off and replaced. My (I thought) witty prose is torn apart and scattered across the page. Suddenly visions and ideas about the final product are being spouted off at an alarming rate.
What excellent information and clear, detailed desires the writer then receives. In the end, I often feel frustrated. So much time is wasted after the first draft because I have to then take all additional prose and line it up with what I’ve already written. Oftentimes, I make only small grammatical changes, feeling like the piece is no longer my own. So many changes have been made that I have to wonder – why wasn’t I told that xyz was what you wanted in the first place? Or, I suddenly understand – it was a shorter piece, a longer piece, a snappier piece, a bolder piece, a less/more opinionated piece. In any case, it was a piece quite different that what was requested.
By the time I’m handed back the first draft, I often have to find the original to see what was changed because there are so many changes I only vaguely recognize what I actually wrote.
And yet, in all instances, people find this first draft a great help. No one ever really says, “Hey, that was trash, next time I’ll ask someone else.” Then again, maybe they’re realizing how much they put me through and feeling bad about it?
At the end of the day, I like writing, and I like writing things for people. I would rather rewrite five different times than have nothing to write at all. Maybe over time I’ll figure out what specific questions I should be asking to get the draft right the first time. It’s easier in business settings where these questions are expected – the personal realm is where I really have trouble.
