Regarding First Drafts: Revision Is Writing

I have to make a confession. I’m new to this whole blogging thing.

You can stop laughing now. I know. I’m late to the party. I’m old. I need to get a life. Hey! I’m trying.

One way I’m trying is by immersing myself in other blogs, especially those that explain this whole process. After all, advice is a good thing, right?

I’m beginning to think, “Not so much.”

An alarming number of bloggers tell newbies to abandon decades of training, disavow the precepts of the antiquated writing process, and produce simply for quantity of content rather than worry about quality.

Many say the writer especially need not concern him/herself with editing the first draft of a post. Simply let the words flow to a total of 400-500 or so, stop when the mind gets mushy, and simply hit the “publish” button.

Really? 

Writers can do that? Writers SHOULD do that? 

Seriously?

To quote the indignant ninth-grader with his baseball cap askew while chomping on his Juicy Fruit gum and wiping his allergy-affected nose with the back of his hand, “That ain’t happenin’.”

At least not for me. I may not want to, but I have to revise. For three reasons: I’m not articulate enough; my typing is not skillful enough (Heck, I’m still struggling with the concept of a home row); and I firmly believe a blog is not a journal.

First, I will concede that writing an uncensored first draft is valuable because thoughts can be amorphous beings just floating aimlessly through your brain, unformed, unidentifiable, and as profound as a first-grader with a mouthful of paste and crayons. It’s important for a writer to rescue those thoughts before they disappear by committing them to paper/screen. With those clumps of verbal clay before you, you can mold them into something coherent. 

The thoughts may have been shapeless and pointless before, but with their basic substance before you, you can form and sculpt them into something useful, artful, or both. All because you wrote them in their original form as messy and rough as they may be. And that is good, right? As the old adage says, “How can you know what you think until you see what you say?”

But to assume that those thoughts have magically appeared fully formed, eloquently stated, and completely free of structural gaffes is entirely foolish. And to publish them in their crude pre-revision state is even more foolish.

Oh, yes, there are happy accidents, like genius misspellings, word choice, or grammatical faux pas that confound the language imps sitting on your shoulder. That’s the beauty of writing the rough draft.

However, if you truly have something worthwhile to say, you must make sure your words express it in the most effective manner possible before you publish.

Secondly, if you have typing skills like mine, you know you'

re going to mess up. Thank goodness, most writing apps come with helpful tools to identify your clumsiness. 

One of the easiest and most essential has nothing to do with the words you choose: spell check. Remember this admonition: Spell check is your friend. It won't catch all your errors, assuredly, but it will catch many of the most common.

That being said, there are still many simple errors you have to watch for because, like typing, spell check and its evil twin auto-correct are still inexact tools. There are some simple-to-miss errors it just won't detect. Far too often, the writer will accidentally type something innocent like “far too often” which will morph into the totally wrong “fart too often.” Without reviewing the first draft … or second ... or third ... such mistakes will cause the subject of your post to be lost in a torrent of snickers and guffaws.

Then again, maybe auto-correct has a sense of humor and did that on purpose. 

The third of my concerns is that blogging is not journalling and should not be treated as such. Yes, some people use it for that purpose, but to them I say, “Stop it!” 

You write journals

for yourself, keeping them under the bed or in the closet where your nosy little brother won’t find them. 

Blogs, on the other hand, are public. They’re on the internet, for crying out loud, where anybody can find them ... especially that snot-nosed little brother wiping his runny nose with his bare hand. Get a tissue, booger breath!

Sorry. Back to first draft editing.

What is the purpose of the first draft? Let’s establish a few baselines.

First, the first draft’s most common alternate appellation is “rough draft.” Meaning it is roughly what you want to say, but not exactly. More often this version is more accurately referred to as the “really bad draft.” As your gunky freshman brother would say, “It really Hoovers,” which is much better than his original word

choice.

Secondly, the concept of “First thought/Best thought” does not equate to “First draft/Best draft.” Unless you are a writing deity, and even if you are, those good ideas that miraculously materialize appear on your screen still need revision, fashioning, copy-editing, and a strong shot of caffeine-laden liquid to make them comprehensible to your reader.

Thirdly, and maybe most importantly, your reader deserves your best writing, the writing that shows respect because you took time to make his/her job easier. In other words, revision makes you a nice person. Like your mother told you, “It’s nice to be important but it’s more important to be nice.”

Unless you are exceedingly wordy, the process won’t take that long. Plus your post will have more impact.

Who knows? Maybe in gratitude that gunky, insolent brother will smile and turn his cap brim the way it was designed.

And maybe I’ll munch on brussels sprouts for a snack. 

Nevertheless, revision is worth the effort.