Q&A: Joan's question about second draft and "flow"

Patches or invisible mending?

Photo by Documerica on Unsplash

A couple days ago, I responded to the April Poll results by asking for QUESTIONS. There are now several posted. Please add yours to that post!

I’ll start with the first, from Joan, who has recently completed the first draft of a lengthy work:

When I am inserting a new scene or chapter into a second draft novel how do I do it without disturbing the flow of the story? I guess I am asking about the transition points?

There’s a moment/time of utter celebration when you’ve completed a first novel. Congratulations are in order! Then there’s what I call the post-partum. And more of that comes later… when you feel you are indeed finished the whole. And/or when an editor says you are finished… before going to press.

Moving on to the second draft is terrifying.

Here’s where it’s tough to say what I’m about to say, and tougher to hear it: there are going to be more than two drafts to this thing.

I’m excited when I have the full first draft, beginning to end; it means I have something to work with. It’s no longer just ideas in my head. And so long as a novel is incomplete in any way, to my mind, that’s what it is: ideas in my head. NOT something I can hand over to someone. So to have the first draft complete really is solid.

Then the fun begins. I enjoy re-writing, but am also aware—and revisit constantly—all the other emotions around it. The tough brain work. There are many reasons why I take copious short naps while re-writing.

This is long preliminary to my answer, but feel it’s needed.

I launch into second draft with high hopes and renewed ideas. But we often have ideas about the possibility of “writing through”—that is, beginning at the beginning and working through, with a nice clean draft in our wake. Like driving the tractor across the field, knowing we’ll do it the once, in a straight line, plant things, and watch them grow. (Anyone who’s done this will laugh at this. I’m guessing there is real skill involved in that straight line…)

But it’s just not like that. Because at some point you’re going to re-write a scene, and not only will it be “superior” to all else you’ve written in the entire story, but it’ll be a further exploration that will shift a character’s voice, or create a new thread, or in some way, dramatically MOVE the whole. And then you’re left with a dilemma: do you cut this piece, and leave the story with a feeling of wholeness?? Or do you mess with status quo and accept that you’ve now patched a hole in those old jeans with a piece of bright red crushed velvet, and oh my, what is THAT going to MEAN?