Yesterday I had one of those ‘finally finding the matching puzzle piece’ moments and it was glorious. You know when you’re working on a puzzle and you have that one piece you’ve been hunting for endlessly. You’ve tried turning it this way and that way but it never seems to fit in any of the places you try. But then, seemingly like magic, the piece clicks into place and found a home.
That glorious feeling of triumph and satisfaction is how I felt yesterday. It all came about when I was listening to a podcast (I do love my podcasts) on writing the openings for a story. One of the hosts related a first draft to “telling yourself the story” and the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
I’ve heard all the ‘you are writing for yourself’ and ‘write the story you want to read’ and worn-out writing phrases that still hold much value but had never gelled for me. Drafting has always felt like a slog through molasses, a Sisyphean task.
For some reason, I couldn’t begin to tell you why, this particular phrase made things click for me in a wonderful new way. I’m not questioning it, I’m just holding on to it. It might be that the phrasing turns the drafting process inward so it’s me and the story sitting by a camp fire. Brain, wild stuff.
Now, I can’t stop thinking of my zero draft as the opportunity to tell myself the story. To figure out what the story needs to be, want it wants to be. Subsequent drafts being for for others, for polishing, sorting out various knots. But the heart of it all, that’s just me and the story.