First Drafts

It's late January, and in Ohio, that usually means snow is covering the ground and black ice is waiting to trip you up at every turn. But it's been an unusual winter so far and I'm loving still having a green front yard. Not a pretty green yard, but one with good bones. Kind of reminds me of a flash first draft.

Allow me to explain my logic. A first draft, at least my first drafts, are a loosey-goosey compilation of scenes that may or may not fit together. It's definitely not pretty, just bare bones. Kind of like my  yard in winter. Where are the flowers? The nice stone edging marking the beds where the crocuses will rise out of the snow in March? The yard art that shows my personality, my style?

All that happens later. After I finish the first draft, and see that I actually do have a story to tell and that there's a happy ever after ending to it, I go back to the beginning and start adding in the flowers,  the roses with their musky smell, the heady strong scent of the lilies and the sweet-smelling hyacinths.

I'm working through the second draft of my new historical, which is very dear to my heart, since it's based on family lore. My uncle and I have had many conversations about what could have happened and how, and his ideas are very much in play with this story. I'm adding in the color, the details, to the story now, making room for those scenes I was in too much of a hurry to write during the first draft and smoothing out some of my transitions. Once I finish the slightly more polished second draft, I'll go back to the beginning and start again, adding in the little details that elevate a manuscript to a published work. 

I expect to be working on this story, tentatively called Dance With Destiny, until March or so. I expect, at some time during the long days of February, to have my yard covered with snow, and black ice will make walking hazardous. I hope to not get buried in it, like my friend in the DC area last week, but this is Ohio and this lovely weather can't last.

At least I know I have lots to do, many revisions to make before this manuscript will be ready for publication. I will load up my house with food, and laugh at the weather. I will work hard, and maybe, just maybe, by the time the crocuses poke their heads through the snow, I will have a polished manuscript that both my uncle and I can be proud of.