Reader,

As much as I love Anne Lamott, I'm ready to ditch the idea of "shitty first drafts."

I have Gary Larson to thank for this epiphany. My sons like to read while they eat, and one of them left The Prehistory of The Far Sidesplayed open on the kitchen table last night. The Far Side is always wonderful, but this particular volume is one of my favorite. Larson offers a glimpse into his creative process. One section—the one Charlie had left open—contrasts finished panels with the drawings that Larson originally started with. Sitting down, I flipped through, captivated by the difference between where he started and where he ended up.

Larson didn't talk dismissively about his original drawings. Instead, he kept describing them as "sketches"—a term that immediately caught my attention. And sometimes, he admitted that he preferred the original to the polished comic that eventually ran in newspapers across the country.

So, going forward, rather than talk about writing "shitty first drafts," I'm going to use Larson's term, for two reasons.

First, it accurately captures what we're trying to do in a first draft. We're not setting out to write something terrible. We're trying to feel things out. We're playing with words as a way to get at the shape of what we want to say. We're unpacking everything in our heads and pouring it out on the page. We know that some of it doesn't belong, but we also know that we can't discern what does until we see our words in black and white. (Or whatever color of gel pen you like to use.)

Second, to call something we've written a "shitty first draft" is a cop-out. We're telling ourselves and others not to take it seriously. We're declaring a judgment instead of displaying curiosity. Really, we're trying to soothe our wounded ego, which bizarrely expects every sentence that flows from our fingers to be instantly pristine and dazzling.

Words matter. Terms matter. Don't abuse yourself as you write. Believe that your first draft—your sketch—is valuable and good, even though you're going to be revising and reshaping it.

Speaking of sketches, I wrote the first new sketch for The Thrill of Writing tonight. It's three pages long and just over 1,000 words. I'm tentatively calling it "Playing Hooky." It's about the March 2021 morning when I rediscovered my ability to write. That was a remarkable moment for a few different reasons. (We'll see how many of them make it into the final version.)

I plan to revise the essay between now and next Monday. My goal: I want to share both versions with you. Since the goal of this series is to write my book in public, it seems only fair to revise in public too. I'm not going to do that with everything in the book, but I thought some of you might enjoy seeing how I go about my editing work.

At least, that's the sketch I'm running with for now. We'll see what actually shows up in your inbox next week.

Keep your stick on the ice.

Frank Ewert
Writer, Editor, Book Coach
Author of Embrace Your Writer's Block and Blue Ice​