The Perfect First Draft Doesn't Exist
You’ve probably heard this advice a thousand times before. It’s one of those things people constantly say, post online, or write in articles. Yet, for many of us, it goes in one ear and out the other—at least, that was my experience until I finally listened. It took finishing an actual first draft to truly understand this piece of wisdom: your first draft doesn’t have to be perfect.
That realization changed everything for me. When I finally stopped expecting my first drafts to be flawless—or better than anyone else’s—I started writing more freely. For many of us, even when we claim to understand this advice, perfectionism sneaks back in as we write. We second-guess our words, wondering, Does this apply to me? Or am I just a bad writer if my first draft isn’t perfect?
The truth is, perfectionism holds so many writers back. Over time, I’ve spoken to countless people who’ve had the same epiphany after finishing their first drafts: getting to the end is a game changer. Once you’ve completed that initial draft, you’ll realize how much you can improve it through revisions, brainstorm new ideas, and discover the flow that comes with rewriting.
So, if you’re struggling with the pressure to write perfectly from the start, let this be your focus. Accept that first drafts are about getting the story down, not getting it perfect. Revision will polish it, but the process becomes infinitely easier once you’ve allowed yourself to write freely.
Remember: very few writers craft a perfect draft in one go. Revisions are not a sign of failure—they’re an essential part of the craft. Releasing yourself from the unrealistic pressure to write something cohesive and polished on your first try will not only make the process faster but also more enjoyable. You’ll find that the words come easier, and the magic of revision will fall into place later.
Outlines Change
This was a lesson I didn’t hear often when I started writing; it was something I had to discover on my own. Many writers begin their projects thinking the key to a good novel is a perfectly crafted, unchangeable outline. But the reality? Almost no one sticks to their original outline by the time the first draft is done.
A common trap for writers is spending too much time on outlining, as if it’s the most important part of writing a novel. While it’s a crucial tool for preparation and helps clarify your ideas, it’s not where the bulk of your time should go. The actual writing is what matters most.
Outlines serve as a roadmap to guide you—helping you define your themes, characters, plot twists, and overall direction. But they shouldn’t be rigid. If you treat your outline as a living document, one that adapts and grows with your story, it will free you to make creative decisions as you write.
When you stick too closely to an outline, it can become a cage, locking you into choices that may no longer feel right as the story evolves. Trust your instincts while writing; if your gut tells you the story needs to go in a different direction, let it.
For most writers, a couple of weeks (or at most a couple of months) of outlining is plenty. Spending years in the outlining phase often becomes procrastination disguised as preparation. Instead, focus on getting to the writing quickly. The story will reveal itself as you go, and your outline can shift to accommodate the twists and turns your imagination uncovers.
Letting go of the mindset that your outline has to be perfect—or that you must follow it exactly—can be a game changer for your creative process. Embrace flexibility, and you’ll find that writing becomes a more organic and rewarding journey.
Start Before You're Ready
Interestingly, I didn’t pick this up from other writers—it’s a lesson I learned from business coaches I worked with when starting my own business. Their philosophy was simple: you don’t need to feel 100% prepared to begin. This mindset stuck with me, and I’ve found it applies perfectly to writing.
One of the most common traps writers fall into is waiting—waiting until the outline feels perfect, until the characters are fully fleshed out, until the timing feels right. But here’s the truth: there’s rarely a “perfect” moment to start. I’ve encouraged the writers I coach to dive in even if they feel unprepared. More often than not, starting is the hardest part, and once you’re in motion, the pieces begin to fall into place.
This advice ties closely to the idea of letting go of perfectionism. If you remove the pressure of writing something flawless on the first try, it becomes much easier to take that first step. Writing with the understanding that your first draft is just that—a first draft—can help eliminate the mental blocks that often hold us back.
By starting before you feel ready, you’re giving yourself permission to experiment, to explore, and to discover what your story truly wants to become. You can always refine, rework, and polish in subsequent drafts. But you can’t revise something that doesn’t exist.
So, don’t wait. Begin writing even if it feels messy or incomplete. You’ll find that taking action is the most effective way to gain clarity and momentum. Every great novel starts with that first imperfect draft, and yours can too.
Nail Your Narrative Perspective
The fourth piece of advice comes from my own writing coach, L.R. Lam, who guided me during my Creative Writing MSc. They taught me something that completely shifted my approach: nail your narrative perspective.
When I first started working with my coach, my writing was all over the place. I couldn’t decide on a narrator or even a consistent narrative style. Should it be an omniscient narrator? Should I use first-person? Third-person close? I even toyed with experimental ideas like a ghost narrator or something equally unconventional.
This indecision paralyzed my progress. I rewrote my first three chapters at least four times, trying to find a narrative perspective that felt natural. Only after settling on one did the story truly begin to take shape.
Here’s the thing: when starting a new project, you don’t have to worry about every detail of your plot immediately. Instead, focus on two key questions:
- Who is this story happening to?
- Who is telling this story?
Getting clarity on these early in the drafting process can make the rest of the writing flow much more naturally. It also prevents you from facing the monumental headache of changing the narrative perspective later. Rewriting dialogue or polishing scenes is manageable. But switching your entire novel from third-person present tense to first-person past tense? That’s like the literary equivalent of leg day at the gym—you’ll feel every bit of that pain.
Nailing your narrative perspective early doesn’t just save you work down the line; it also helps you connect with your story on a deeper level. Once you’ve figured out the “who” of your narration, everything else—the tone, the voice, and even the plot—can fall into place more organically.
Know Your Why
The fifth piece of advice, and one that I personally live by, is to know your why—understand your story's purpose. This is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way through several of my own projects. Looking back, I realized that some of my earlier works lacked a clear Thematic Argument—the central reason or message that justified why I was telling those stories in the first place.
For example, I recently revisited an older project that I had meticulously outlined. It was supposed to be a TV series, and I had fleshed out every single episode, complete with detailed beat sheets for all the scenes and plot points. I even had bullet points for future seasons. But when I considered adapting it into a novel, I hit a major wall.
Why? Because despite all that detailed planning, I hadn’t figured out my why—the purpose or deeper meaning behind the story. What message was I trying to convey? What themes was I exploring? What made this project worth investing time in? It took me an entire weekend just to wrestle with these questions and uncover the core reason I wanted to tell this story.
This is why understanding your story's purpose is so crucial. It goes beyond entertainment or surface-level goals. Sure, some writers might say, “I’m just writing for fun.” And while that’s valid, I personally believe that every book, no matter the genre or intention, should have a deeper purpose—a message or theme it seeks to illustrate.
Once you know your why, the entire creative process becomes smoother. You can use that purpose as a guiding principle to shape everything else:
- Characters: Their decisions and arcs should support your story’s purpose.
- Plot: Every twist, turn, and conflict becomes an opportunity to underscore your message.
- Themes: Your narrative will naturally align with the broader ideas you want to explore.
For example, consider a show like Attack on Titan. (Yes, my brother forced me to watch it, and I ended up loving it!) It’s a masterclass in purpose-driven storytelling. Every character, plot development, and thematic layer ties back to its core purpose. This focus makes the story feel cohesive, intentional, and emotionally resonant.
If you can articulate your story's why in a single sentence—not just the plot, but the purpose—you’ll find it much easier to navigate your writing process. It’s the foundation upon which everything else is built.
Would you like me to dive deeper into story purpose? I could explore examples from shows like Attack on Titan or other narratives that demonstrate how a clear purpose strengthens storytelling. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!
Importance of Backstory
The final piece of advice is all about backstory. This is another invaluable lesson I learned from my mentor, L.R Lam, during my time in their creative writing program. Backstory was something I initially struggled with. I used to think it was irrelevant—that a good story could stand on its own without delving too much into the past.
How wrong I was! Over time, I’ve come to see backstory as everything.
When I worked on the novel my coach helped me with, I discovered how much of the current narrative was shaped by events in the past. In fact, many of the key moments and conflicts in the story stemmed directly from the characters’ backstories or the world’s history. It became clear that the plot wasn’t just happening—it was a consequence of the backstory.
Backstory serves as the foundation for:
- Character motivations: Understanding why your characters behave a certain way or make certain choices often hinges on their past experiences.
- Worldbuilding: In fantasy or speculative fiction, the lore and history of the world can enrich your narrative and make it feel more authentic.
- Thematic depth: Backstory can add layers of meaning to your story’s themes, making them more resonant.
- Plot revelations: Many great third-act twists or climactic moments revolve around a key piece of backstory being unveiled.
Think about stories where everything falls into place when the past is finally revealed. These moments can be incredibly satisfying for readers and often serve as the linchpin for the entire narrative.
For example, in some stories, the backstory is the story. The current events are merely a way for the characters—and the audience—to uncover and process what has already happened. This approach can be especially powerful in mysteries, dramas, and even fantasy epics.
That said, it’s important to strike a balance. Backstory shouldn’t overshadow the present narrative. Instead, it should act as a supporting pillar that enhances and deepens the story you’re telling.
So, my advice is this: Take the time to create a rich and vivid backstory for your characters, your world, and your central conflicts. Whether or not all of it makes it onto the page, it will give your narrative a greater sense of depth and authenticity.
Char Anna
Char is the author of the writing guide ‘Finish Your First Novel’ and the founder of The Plottery. She’s been in the biz since 2021, and holds a BA in Film & Screenwriting as well as an MA in Creative Writing from Edinburgh Napier University.
Char resides in rainy Scotland with her pup Lavender (who is anything but calm, contrary to what her name suggests), and she writes darker fiction that focuses on unusual family dynamics and lots of queerness.
