First Drafts Can Suk it!

Writing is hard. Like, seriously.

One of my favorite quotes come from All The Bright Places and comments on said fact.

Writing is so difficult that writers, having had their hell on earth, will escape all punishment hereafter.

And first drafts. Seriously, they can suk it. Like, all of it. They make me wonder if my brain even works. Do I sound like this big of a moron when I speak? I need to stop speaking. Like, when you go back to some quickly jotted notes, and you can’t decipher your own writing, that’s what a first draft is to my thoughts. I’m reading what must be a sentence. There’s a period at the end of a string of words. That’s a sentence, right? But this makes all kinds of sense that is nonsense. How am I supposed to EDIT this into coherency when there isn’t even a base coherency to be found?!

But, somehow, it gets there. Probably with multiple missed chances at brilliance. Those pure moments of genius that didn’t form themselves well onto the page because my meager human existence struggled to decipher, it and it’s now lost forever. Who knows? Maybe my basic fun, adventure novels were meant to be more, if only I’d trained my brain to translate from the muses better.

It’s a question I often see on author posts, asking what part of the processes is their most and least favorite. I could never answer. Well, I can now. First Drafts can SUUUUUK it.

Needless-to-say, I’m a little bit with the struggles right now on my current first draft. It’s not even that I don’t know where its going, or where it is, or what I want to happen. I have a plan for this story. I’ve even written the ending. But I just can’t get the words onto the page.

Maybe I should be the one sukkin it. Maybe I’m just having an aversion to work, because the first draft, I think, is where the most work goes in. The literal creation of something from nothing. I like when it’s finally here, when I can go in and fine-tune, when I can sculpt a clean product from the ragged suggestion of it. That means, finishing this first draft. *insert annoyed, toddler-tantrum expression here*

What do you think? Are you sukkin first drafts, too? Or you just think I don’t have the chops? Go on, be honest 🙂

And here. Let’s all suck it…

Catching Balance Update

Some tertiary characters get to come forward in book 4, many of them the females who’ve given themselves to assisting Dee’s plight.

Dee’s Shadows, Subra and Fera, who have been by her side since Zosma assigned them her protector continue their role, while Nirah shows herself to be a great tactician. Acacia is just an all-around solid Soldier. Someone we’d all be lucky to find at our side, and she’s one of the few trained as a medic. Anyone else remember Dee’s guts splattering onto the floor of a plane?

Hope you’re enjoying these mini character profiles. No free books this week, but if you’re a reviewer, send me a DM. Also, all my books are shareable through Kindle, so don’t be afraid to send your copy along to someone you think might love Dee and her friends 👊

Check out the first 3.5 books by clicking image

Vulnerability in Art

I wrote this right before I published STUMBLING, and apparently decided not to post it. I have changed my mind on that. At least it might give you a smile. It did me, though it still holds true. My third book will release in a few days so there’s a panic thing going on at this time, too. Serendipitous? Does it matter?

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The End of the Beginning

The End of the Beginning

When my editor finished highlighting the oversights I’d missed in Book One, I found myself renewed in my task of telling this story in its best possible way.

So, I set to refining those last details of my piece.

It was the first time I really felt like an artist.


I’d been told this craft of writing is art. I consider other writers artists, but I never brought the title to bear on myself. Through the time of turning a slew of crappy words thrown together into a coherent story, I’d never thought I was making art. But in these final steps, there were fleeting moments that I was.

In these moments, I was proud of what I was doing 🙂 Proud of what I’d done.

Chiseling away to bring forth the final details that would make this piece better than it was, I was a sculptor of words. I saw the art. I saw that art wasn’t some mystical ambrosia that spawned inside some and not others. It was blood and hurt and patience and perseverance. It was showing up every day. It was practicing a craft until I was good at it. It was practicing more until I was better.

Like a giant hurdle has been vaulted, I’m even more committed and excited to continue this journey. I feel like the beginning has ended. I’m confident to move into the sophomoric stage of this journey, where I hope to learn and grow by leaps and bounds.

  • Tell me about the learning curve in your art
  • What eureka moments have you had that kept you moving forward?