Familiarity breeds content

Some­times I think a first draft is called a draft because so much wind blows through it. That is to say, there are so many gaps, lacks, and holes; you might as well call it a hunk of Swiss Cheese.

But with that first draft, you can (and should) return and return again and fill those gaps, those holes. How does that work? It’s because you know, pre­sum­ably, the full arc of your sto­ry, and you know your char­ac­ters bet­ter and bet­ter, and what they might or might not do. You see it all with greater clar­i­ty. Voice. Dic­tion. Pace. You see what should not be there, and what you could add. It’s a case of famil­iar­i­ty breed­ing content.

Speak­ing for myself, I tru­ly feel that my rewrit­ing is my best writing—that’s when my work takes on its life.

And this too I tru­ly believe: You can’t write a good first page until you write a good last page.