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Flying Lesson #4
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Flying Lesson #4

My "Get a Draft" Done Formula

Jennifer Lauck
Jul 3
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Flying Lesson #4
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I’m pausing the action of the journey to publication to answer a question posted in the comment section by a paid subscriber, Kristi Till. And in doing this, I have also had a brainstorm and updated my About Page on what I’m calling a Rewards Program for paying subscribers, which is a post like this one.

First, thank you, Kristi, for being one of my paid subscribers, and second, thanks for your excellent question on the process of completing a draft. I’ve answered the scheduling part of your question in the comment box. I hope this will be helpful.

When you knit, you end up with a sweater or shawl you can give to your adorable kid or wear yourself (after you post on Ravelry.com, of course).

I’m a knitter for one reason. When I’m done, I have some “thing” tangible to show for my time and efforts.

When you paint, you have something to hang on the wall.

When you are a potter, you have a bowl, a vase, or a plate to display.

When you are a writer, though, you’re dealing with black letters on a blank surface, and those letters will get moved and rearranged a million-and-one times. And because this is an art form of reflexive consciousness, what we think we have to say or need to say, can change in a moment, making this art form as slippery as a garter snake in wet grass.

To persevere, a writer needs endurance, daily (even hourly) inspiration, and processes designed to get the job done.

Jennifer’s Get it Done Formula

I start with word count.

Suppose you are writing a book-length memoir. You can estimate that will be 125,000-150,000 in the first draft, and by your third, between 85,000-100,000.

If you are writing an essay, you can estimate about 10,000 words in the first draft and then, by your third, between 3500-5000 words.

The first and second drafts are “drafty,” meaning they are longer because the writer is creating a lot of scenes, which take a lot of words to write, and they are also “telling” more than they might need to build out the story in their own minds. See Flying Lessons # 2 for Scene. See Flying Lesson #3 for Exposition (or telling). You will refine as you narrow down your structure, your plot, your themes, and the story you ultimately want to tell to a reader. Refining always means cutting words out.

So here it is:

  1. Pick your form and determine your word count. (#w)

  2. Add up the days between now and the day you want your book/essay done. (#d)

  3. Divide that number into your word count total

  4. Arrive at your word count to write per day. (#wpd)

#w/#d=#wpd

For example, I have 72 days before I write through 135,000 words. That’s 1875 words a day.

135,000/72 = 1875

The Post-It Trick (in support of the Get It Done Formula)

Once I have my word count/days-to-finish worked out, I whip out a post-it and write a note to myself about where to begin the next day. Each day the note comes down, and a new one goes up. “Start on Pg. 2 of Chapter 30,” and so on. The point for me is to keep moving forward in my draft because I have seen too many writers get stuck—for years— on the first fifty pages of their books. I have learned (after writing a dozen books) that the only way to know my beginning is to get to my ending a few times. The Post-It Trick keeps me on task to a finished draft.

The Write/Read Method (in development)

With this memoir (my fifth), I’m in an advanced draft, meaning I’ve written this book several times over the years. And I’m narrowing the whole of it down in a way I’ve never done with previous memoirs, which has to do with holding to a tighter structure line. There’s much more to say about structure and plot, but I’m not going into all that here. The point is that with a tighter structure and a more advanced draft, I’ve decided to try a new process: I write to my word count (about 2500 words a day), print the day’s work, and read it in the evening. I notate questions and edits on the pages and enter the changes that night or first thing the next day. Then I write forward again and repeat the entire process.

The trouble I am encountering with this method is tracking the many moving parts of the plot and character evolution. I am about to break out my yellow legal pad and start notating, chapter by chapter, what has happened, and what needs to happen, but I’m not quite there yet.

Another thing I’m trying is Beta Readers. I feel like I’ve done a solid job on my open. And a tolerable job on the mid-section. So I paired those parts and sent them to two writers I admire (Beta Readers in that they are test group). Getting those parts off my desk gives me time to write to the end without fixating on the other parts. This far into the game, I will sabotage myself by going back to the beginning with a brilliant new idea, only to be stuck in the same place in a few weeks. This is somewhat similar to the Post-It Trick but better because I've tricked myself into going forward by leaning into actual people this time. Real humans are involved! Very soon, they will tell me what is working and not working, and I can factor that into my finished-but-rough ending and, hopefully, start again with the next and final draft.

One other minor glitch is that I’m running out of time before these Beta Readers arrive at my place to talk those two parts through. I need to put the hammer down (and I will), but I have to admit that I’m stumbling because the emotional side of this story is kicking my ass.

On Matters of the Heart

Oh! Right! The pain of writing into a profoundly personal story. The heartache. The confusion. The sense of shame, failure, and utter unworthiness. The rage. The sadness. 🤦🏻‍♀️

All I’ve shared above about process comes from my gut instincts about perseverance and my intellectual ability to create “systems.” But, I cannot leave my heart out of the formula. Nor should I.

No tears for the writer, no tears for the reader

~ Robert Frost

The moments of sorrow must be accounted for and included in the process, but I don’t yet know how to add up the heart's needs. Would it be like this: Number of emotions the heart needs to feel (#hn) times hours spent feeling (#hrsF) and then subtract that from the above formula as “days lost writing” (#dlw)?

Or: #ehnF x #hrsF = #dlw?

Is it possible to come up with an estimate of lost time and factor it into the end goal?

Okay, I know this is getting a little silly, but there is a truth here. Maybe I will miss my deadline to finish before the Beta Readers show up because I miscalculated my emotional needs. And maybe Kristi’s out there cleaning, shopping, cooking, and making appointments for the same reason. Perhaps we need to figure out how to get to the feeling part of this game and accept that it’s a part of the process…maybe even the most critical part of the process.

What I’ve been doing or trying to do over this month of intensive writing is this…when I notice I am doing anything BUT working on my memoir formula, I take myself to a particular path that leads through the deep woods and walk until I arrive at the sea. Then I keep walking until I reach a peninsula where the ocean converges into a river. I sit on a sand outcropping for a long time and usually when walking back, feel something give way. It’s often tears, and they are about something I’ve written or not. Or I feel…calm. Or I get an idea that I need to write down.

This whole journey takes a couple of hours. And I’m learning (though somewhat begrudgingly) to build such a walk into my routine. Sometimes I can go a couple of days without it, but sometimes it’s every day. It bugs me that my heart is not more efficient, predictable, or measurable but too bad. To be the writer I know I’m capable of being, I need to surrender and accept. I need to work with my heart, not against it.

This might be more than you bargained for, Kristi, but I hope these ramblings help. And do let me know what is working as you shape your own process and move toward your goal of a finished draft. We grow through trying and tweaking until we find that perfect fit. And every book will be different.

Side note: I’ve answered the first question about scheduling in the comment box.

If anyone reading this has a process they’d like to share, please pop it into the comment box.

Thanks again, Kristi!

~ Jennifer, 💗

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Laurel Anderson
Jul 3

I love this Robert Frost quote. When I am writing through emotional pain I find it helpful to choose a favorite pen and scribble into a pretty notebook. If the tears come, so be it, I let them loose. I find once my emotions are out of my body and onto the page I am composed enough to type about this particular time with less 'feelings' and more 'creativity'. I have had to write three eulogies, mother, sister, brother, and each time I was able to deliver them with surprising stoic calm - because all of my emotion was expended in writing them!

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