Tag: Books

365 Days of writing, 2026 – My second story 3

More about my second story

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The Female Assassin: Breaking Stereotypes and Forging a Unique Path

As a writer, creating a compelling and complex female character can be a daunting task, especially when venturing into the realm of assassins. With a plethora of male-dominated stories in the genre, it’s essential to differentiate our female protagonist from her counterparts while maintaining the essence of the profession. In this blog post, we’ll explore ways to set our female assassin apart, infuse her with a conscience or unique rationale, and introduce a captivating on-again, off-again romance that will keep readers enthralled.

Setting Her Apart: Beyond the Typical Traits

To avoid clichés, let’s move beyond the usual characteristics associated with female assassins, such as:

  • The seductress: using charm and beauty to lure targets
  • The revenge seeker: driven by a personal vendetta
  • The stoic killer: emotionless and devoid of empathy

Instead, consider the following traits to make your female assassin stand out:

  • Unconventional skills: Perhaps she’s an expert in a unique area, such as cryptology, toxicology, or engineering, which she leverages to carry out her missions.
  • Moral ambiguity: She operates in a gray area, questioning the true nature of her targets and the motivations behind her contracts.
  • Vulnerability: She has a weakness, such as a chronic illness, a troubled past, or a personal loss, that makes her more relatable and human.

A Conscience or Rationale: Adding Depth to Her Character

Giving your female assassin a conscience or a well-defined rationale for her actions can elevate her from a one-dimensional killer to a complex, multidimensional character. Some possible approaches:

  • A personal code: She adheres to a strict set of rules, such as only targeting those who have committed heinous crimes or refusing to harm innocent bystanders.
  • A larger purpose: She believes her work serves a greater good, such as taking down a corrupt organisation or protecting a specific community.
  • A conflicted past: Her experiences have led her to question the morality of her profession, and she grapples with the consequences of her actions.

The On-Again, Off-Again Romance: A Complicated Dance

A romance can add an exciting layer to your story, but it’s essential to avoid clichés and make the relationship an integral part of the narrative. Consider the following:

  • A complicated history: The love interest has a past with the assassin, making their interactions fraught with tension and unresolved emotions.
  • A forbidden love: Their relationship is taboo, either due to the assassin’s profession or the love interest’s connections to her targets.
  • A cat-and-mouse game: The love interest is also a skilled operative, leading to a thrilling game of espionage and one-upmanship.

To keep the romance engaging, make sure to:

  • Develop the love interest: Give them their own backstory, motivations, and conflicts to create a well-rounded character.
  • Balance action and romance: Ensure that the romance doesn’t overshadow the main plot or the assassin’s character development.
  • Keep it unpredictable: Avoid predictable tropes and surprising twists to keep readers invested in the relationship.

By incorporating these elements, you’ll create a female assassin who defies stereotypes and captivates readers with her complexity and depth. Remember to stay true to your character’s voice and agency, and don’t be afraid to push boundaries and explore new themes. With a richly nuanced protagonist and a gripping narrative, your story will stand out in the world of assassin fiction.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 16

Day 16 – The right characters for the story

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How to Find the Right Characters for Your Story: Moving Beyond Stereotypes

In the world of storytelling—whether you’re crafting a suspenseful spy thriller, a gritty crime drama, or an intimate character-driven novel—the characters you choose make or break the narrative. We’ve all read (or watched) stories where the suave, indestructible spy slips through laser grids and dispatches villains with one-handed elegance. And sure, that’s fun. But after a while, we start to wonder: is that all there is?

It’s fine if your spy is a one-man, indestructible killing machine. James Bond, Jason Bourne, and Ethan Hunt have paved the way—and earned their place in pop culture. But isn’t that kind of character one-dimensional? Can’t they feel fear, doubt, or regret? And what about the criminals they pursue? Are they simply evil for the sake of drama, or do they have motives, dreams, and inner conflicts of their own?

If we want our stories to resonate, to linger in readers’ minds long after the final page, we need to go deeper. We need to find the right characters—not just the flashy ones.

Step 1: Start with Motivation, Not Archetype

The easiest path to a cardboard cutout character is to begin with a trope: the stoic hero, the seductive femme fatale, the deranged villain. Instead, ask: What does this character want—and why?

A spy doesn’t just save the world because it’s Tuesday. Maybe they’re driven by guilt over a past failure. Or perhaps they’re trying to protect someone they love. Even a hardened intelligence agent might secretly fear that their actions have made them less human.

Similarly, a criminal isn’t evil just because the plot demands it. What led them down this path? Was it poverty, betrayal, a system that failed them? A villain who believes they’re the hero of their own story is infinitely more compelling than one who twirls a moustache and cackles into the void.

Step 2: Embrace Contradictions

Real people are full of contradictions—and so should your characters be.

Imagine a hitman who volunteers at an animal shelter on weekends. A corrupt cop who’s raising their nephew alone and wants to give him a better life. A genius terrorist who plays classical piano and writes love letters to their mother.

These contradictions humanise. They force readers to question their assumptions. And that’s where deeper engagement begins.

When we give characters opposing impulses—love and fear, duty and desire, cruelty and compassion—we unlock psychological depth. These are the traits that make characters memorable.

Step 3: Avoid Monolithic Labels

Criminals are not inherently villainous. Heroes aren’t inherently good. Moral alignment should be fluid, not fixed.

Consider real-world complexities. A man who robs banks to pay for his daughter’s medical treatment isn’t a saint, but can we call him purely evil? A soldier who follows orders may be “just doing their job,” but what happens when those orders cross ethical lines?

By challenging stereotypes, you invite nuance. A spy doesn’t have to be emotionally detached—they might be hyper-observant precisely because they’re lonely. A femme fatale doesn’t need to manipulate for power; maybe she’s been manipulated her whole life and is finally seizing control.

Step 4: Let Characters Evolve

The right characters aren’t static. They change—sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically. Growth (or regression) is key to authenticity.

Your indestructible spy might start out as a cold operative, but what if, over the course of the story, they begin to question the cost of their actions? What if they hesitate before pulling the trigger—and that hesitation changes everything?

Likewise, a criminal might start as an antagonist but reveal layers of vulnerability, forcing the protagonist (and reader) to reevaluate what “justice” really means.

Step 5: Listen to Your Characters

Many writers say their characters “tell them what to do.” That might sound mystical, but it’s really about immersion. Once you’ve built a foundation, let go of control. Ask: What would this person really do in this situation? Even if it derails your outline, that authenticity breathes life into fiction.

Sometimes the right character reveals themselves not in grand monologues, but in quiet moments—a hesitation before a lie, a nervous habit, a song they hum when alone.

Final Thought: The Right Character Isn’t Perfect—They’re Human

Finding the right characters for your story isn’t about casting a hero who fits the mould. It’s about creating people we recognise—flawed, conflicted, and real. Even in the most fantastical settings, emotional truth is what connects us.

So next time you’re tempted to write the flawless spy or the irredeemable villain, pause. Ask yourself:
Who are they when no one is watching?
What keeps them awake at night?
What do they wish they could change?

Answer those questions, and you won’t just find the right characters for your story—you’ll create ones your readers will never forget.

What I learned about writing – Three rough, flawed drafts are better than nothing

Find Your Voice by Writing—Not by Waiting

Why Practice, Not Planning, Is the True Path to a Unique Writing Voice

There’s a myth that haunts every aspiring writer: Before I can write, I need to get it right.

We tell ourselves we need to study the masters—their sentence structures, their narrative arcs, their perfect dialogue. We pore over query letter templates, craft elaborate character backstories, and plan chapter outlines with military precision. We believe that if we can just prepare enough, analyse enough, or emulate enough, then—then—we’ll finally have a voice worth sharing.

But here’s the truth no one wants to admit:
Your voice doesn’t come from planning. It comes from writing.

Not from reading how Stephen King builds tension.
Not from reverse-engineering a Margaret Atwood paragraph.
Not from polishing a pitch before the first sentence of your novel exists.

Your voice develops through practice—through showing up and putting words on the page, even when they’re messy, clichéd, or downright terrible.

The Myth of the Perfect Start

We often treat our writing like a performance we must rehearse endlessly before stepping on stage. We think we need to “find” our voice before we begin, as if it’s a hidden object buried under research and technique. But voice isn’t something you discover in books or templates.

Voice is born in the doing.

It’s in the flawed first draft where you overwrite dramatic scenes.
It’s in the clumsy dialogue that somehow reveals a character’s vulnerability.
It’s in the thousand bad sentences that eventually—inevitably—teach you what a good one feels like.

The only way to develop a voice is to write enough that the artifice falls away. When you’ve filled notebooks with false starts and deleted 20,000 words, something shifts. You stop trying to sound like someone else. You stop asking, What would my favourite author do? and start trusting, This is what I think. This is how I say it.

Why Practise Beats Planning Every Time

Studying technique has its place—it’s valuable. But technique is a tool, not the source of your voice. You can study every brushstroke of Van Gogh’s paintings, but you’ll never paint like him by analysis alone. You paint like yourself by painting—by making mistakes, by experimenting, by trying and failing and trying again.

Writing is the same.

Each sentence you write—whether brilliant or banal—shapes your natural rhythm, your tone, your perspective. Even “bad” writing teaches you more than passive study ever can. It reveals your tics, your obsessions, your blind spots, and eventually, your strengths.

Voice emerges through accumulation. Through repetition. Through the invisible, daily work of putting words in order.

Embrace the Awful First Draft

Anne Lamott famously wrote about the “Shitty First Draft”—and she wasn’t being harsh. She was being honest. Most great writing begins as a mess. And that’s not a failure. It’s a necessity.

When you accept that your early work will be imperfect, you free yourself to write anything. You stop waiting for permission. You stop curating your thoughts to fit someone else’s idea of “good.” You begin to trust your instincts—and that’s where voice lives.

So stop waiting.

Stop over-planning.
Stop over-analysing.
Stop waiting for confidence.

Just write.

Write when you’re uninspired. Write when you’re uncertain. Write when you’re convinced it’s all garbage. Write especially when it’s garbage.

Because on the other side of those messy, imperfect pages is you—your authentic voice, emerging not from a plan, but from practice.

The Only Assignment That Matters

Your only job today isn’t to write beautifully.
It’s to write.

Put words on paper.
Make mistakes.
Fail forward.

Your voice isn’t waiting to be found.
It’s waiting to be used.

And it will grow—stronger, truer, and unmistakably yours—every time you let it speak.

Harry Walthenson, Private Detective – the second case – A case of finding the “Flying Dutchman”

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What starts as a search for a missing husband soon develops into an unbelievable story of treachery, lies, and incredible riches.

…

It was meant to remain buried long enough for the dust to settle on what was once an unpalatable truth, when enough time had passed, and those who had been willing to wait could reap the rewards.

The problem was, no one knew where that treasure was hidden or the location of the logbook that held the secret.

At stake, billions of dollars’ worth of stolen Nazi loot brought to the United States in an anonymous tramp steamer and hidden in a specially constructed vault under a specifically owned plot of land on the once docklands of New York.

It may have remained hidden and unknown to only a few, if it had not been for a mere obscure detail being overheard …

… by our intrepid, newly minted private detective, Harry Walthenson …

… and it would have remained buried.

Now, through a series of unrelated events, or are they, that well-kept secret is out there, and Harry will not stop until the whole truth is uncovered.

Even if it almost costs him his life.  Again.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 16

Day 16 – The right characters for the story

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How to Find the Right Characters for Your Story: Moving Beyond Stereotypes

In the world of storytelling—whether you’re crafting a suspenseful spy thriller, a gritty crime drama, or an intimate character-driven novel—the characters you choose make or break the narrative. We’ve all read (or watched) stories where the suave, indestructible spy slips through laser grids and dispatches villains with one-handed elegance. And sure, that’s fun. But after a while, we start to wonder: is that all there is?

It’s fine if your spy is a one-man, indestructible killing machine. James Bond, Jason Bourne, and Ethan Hunt have paved the way—and earned their place in pop culture. But isn’t that kind of character one-dimensional? Can’t they feel fear, doubt, or regret? And what about the criminals they pursue? Are they simply evil for the sake of drama, or do they have motives, dreams, and inner conflicts of their own?

If we want our stories to resonate, to linger in readers’ minds long after the final page, we need to go deeper. We need to find the right characters—not just the flashy ones.

Step 1: Start with Motivation, Not Archetype

The easiest path to a cardboard cutout character is to begin with a trope: the stoic hero, the seductive femme fatale, the deranged villain. Instead, ask: What does this character want—and why?

A spy doesn’t just save the world because it’s Tuesday. Maybe they’re driven by guilt over a past failure. Or perhaps they’re trying to protect someone they love. Even a hardened intelligence agent might secretly fear that their actions have made them less human.

Similarly, a criminal isn’t evil just because the plot demands it. What led them down this path? Was it poverty, betrayal, a system that failed them? A villain who believes they’re the hero of their own story is infinitely more compelling than one who twirls a moustache and cackles into the void.

Step 2: Embrace Contradictions

Real people are full of contradictions—and so should your characters be.

Imagine a hitman who volunteers at an animal shelter on weekends. A corrupt cop who’s raising their nephew alone and wants to give him a better life. A genius terrorist who plays classical piano and writes love letters to their mother.

These contradictions humanise. They force readers to question their assumptions. And that’s where deeper engagement begins.

When we give characters opposing impulses—love and fear, duty and desire, cruelty and compassion—we unlock psychological depth. These are the traits that make characters memorable.

Step 3: Avoid Monolithic Labels

Criminals are not inherently villainous. Heroes aren’t inherently good. Moral alignment should be fluid, not fixed.

Consider real-world complexities. A man who robs banks to pay for his daughter’s medical treatment isn’t a saint, but can we call him purely evil? A soldier who follows orders may be “just doing their job,” but what happens when those orders cross ethical lines?

By challenging stereotypes, you invite nuance. A spy doesn’t have to be emotionally detached—they might be hyper-observant precisely because they’re lonely. A femme fatale doesn’t need to manipulate for power; maybe she’s been manipulated her whole life and is finally seizing control.

Step 4: Let Characters Evolve

The right characters aren’t static. They change—sometimes subtly, sometimes dramatically. Growth (or regression) is key to authenticity.

Your indestructible spy might start out as a cold operative, but what if, over the course of the story, they begin to question the cost of their actions? What if they hesitate before pulling the trigger—and that hesitation changes everything?

Likewise, a criminal might start as an antagonist but reveal layers of vulnerability, forcing the protagonist (and reader) to reevaluate what “justice” really means.

Step 5: Listen to Your Characters

Many writers say their characters “tell them what to do.” That might sound mystical, but it’s really about immersion. Once you’ve built a foundation, let go of control. Ask: What would this person really do in this situation? Even if it derails your outline, that authenticity breathes life into fiction.

Sometimes the right character reveals themselves not in grand monologues, but in quiet moments—a hesitation before a lie, a nervous habit, a song they hum when alone.

Final Thought: The Right Character Isn’t Perfect—They’re Human

Finding the right characters for your story isn’t about casting a hero who fits the mould. It’s about creating people we recognise—flawed, conflicted, and real. Even in the most fantastical settings, emotional truth is what connects us.

So next time you’re tempted to write the flawless spy or the irredeemable villain, pause. Ask yourself:
Who are they when no one is watching?
What keeps them awake at night?
What do they wish they could change?

Answer those questions, and you won’t just find the right characters for your story—you’ll create ones your readers will never forget.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 15

Day 15 – How to keep on track

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Staying on Track: How to Maintain Focus and Resist the Siren Call of Tangents in Your Writing

You’ve got the premise. The spark that ignited your novel, screenplay, or short story still glows brightly. You’ve outlined your plot, mapped your protagonist’s arc, and maybe even written the first few scenes. But then it happens—midway through chapter three, an exciting new character pops into your head. Or a fascinating subplot about ancient runes in the protagonist’s attic. Or a sudden urge to write a 1,000-word scene about your main character’s favourite coffee shop barista who definitely has a secret past.

Welcome to the writing life. Welcome to the beautiful, messy temptation of going off track.

Every writer knows this battle: the lure of the tangent. That moment when your imagination gallops ahead, eager to explore new territory—often at the expense of the story you set out to tell. So how do you stay focused? How do you keep your story on course when creativity keeps offering enticing detours?

Here’s how.

1. Remember Your “Why” — Revisit Your Premise

When the urge to veer strikes, pause. Take a breath. And re-read your original premise. Why did you start this story? What core idea, theme, or emotional journey drives it?

Ask yourself: Does this new idea serve the heart of the story? If the answer is no, no matter how brilliant the idea seems, it might be a distraction. You can always save it—more on that later.

Your premise is your anchor. Let it ground you when shiny new ideas try to pull you off course.

2. Use Your Outline as a Compass—Not a Cage

Even if you’re a discovery writer (“pantser”), having even a loose roadmap helps. Your outline doesn’t need to be rigid, but it should act as a compass pointing you toward your story’s destination.

When a tempting subplot or character appears, first consider: Where would this fit in the outline? Does it move the plot forward or deepen character development? Or is it just… interesting?

If it doesn’t serve a structural or emotional purpose, it’s probably a tangent. Not all tangents are bad, but they should earn their place in the narrative. If it doesn’t advance the plot, theme, or character arc—tread carefully.

3. Create a “Someday” Folder

Here’s the secret no one tells you: You don’t have to kill your darlings. You just have to postpone them.

Keep a “Someday” document—a digital notebook, a folder, a journal—where you stash every brilliant idea that doesn’t belong in this story. Character backstories, alternate endings, intriguing subplots, random world-building details—dump them here.

When you add to this folder, you’re honouring your creativity without derailing your progress. Later, you might realise this idea belongs in your next book, a side project, or a short story. You’ve just built a reservoir of inspiration.

4. Set Incremental Goals and Deadlines

Distraction often thrives in aimlessness. If you don’t have clear daily or weekly goals, your mind naturally wanders. “Write something” is too vague. “Write 500 words advancing the inciting incident” is focused.

Break your project into small, manageable tasks:

  • Flesh out Act 2 turning point
  • Rewrite the hospital scene with higher emotional stakes
  • Clarify the antagonist’s motivation

These micro-goals create momentum—and momentum keeps digressions at bay.

If you catch yourself daydreaming about a new character’s origin story during writing time, jot down one sentence in your “Someday” folder and return to your task. Reward focus with curiosity later.

5. Practice the “So What?” Test

When you’re tempted to add a scene, character, or subplot, ask: So what? What does this add to the story? What changes because this exists?

If the answer is: “It’s cool,” “It’s mysterious,” or “I just really like this idea”—that’s not enough.

Great stories thrive on cause and effect. Every element should ripple through the narrative. If your new subplot doesn’t change the outcome or deepen understanding, it might be excess baggage.

6. Schedule “Exploration Time”

Ironically, the best way to avoid constant veering is to allow veering—on purpose.

Set aside time—maybe 30 minutes every Friday—to explore side ideas. Write that barista’s backstory. Sketch the ancient runes. Flesh out the alternate timeline.

When you give your imagination a designated outlet, it stops demanding attention during drafting hours. It learns: Creativity has a time. Now is for focus.

7. Trust the Power of Revision

One of the biggest reasons writers go off track is fear—fear that their story isn’t interesting enough. So they add more: more drama, more mystery, more characters.

But here’s the truth: A strong, focused story is often more powerful than a sprawling one. You can enrich a solid core in revision. You can’t fix a scattered narrative by piling on more layers.

Write the story you meant to tell first. Then, in edits, ask: What’s missing? What needs depth? That’s when you decide whether to weave in some of those saved ideas—intentionally, not impulsively.

Final Thought: Focus Is a Muscle

Like any skill, focus strengthens with practice. The more you train yourself to return to your premise, honour your outline, and defer distractions, the easier it becomes.

You don’t have to suppress your creativity to stay on track. You just have to channel it wisely.

So the next time inspiration calls you down a winding path—smiling, promising adventure—smile back, take a note, and say:
“Not now. But maybe later.”

Then return to the road. Your story is waiting.

What I learned about writing – The perfect first draft is a myth

The Myth of the Perfect First Draft – Is It Even Possible?

“Write drunk, edit sober.” – Ernest Hemingway (probably)

If you’ve ever stared at a blank screen, convinced that the first version of your article, novel, or proposal must be flawless, you’re not alone. The idea of a “perfect first draft” has been romanticised in writing workshops, self‑help books, and even on Twitter, where aspiring authors proudly post “my first draft is done!”—only to follow up with a list of rewrites that would make even Stephen King wince.

In this post we’ll pull apart the myth, explore why it persists, and—most importantly—give you a practical roadmap for turning that inevitable mess of a first draft into a polished piece without losing your sanity (or your voice).

1. Why the Myth Exists

SourceWhat It PromisesUnderlying Fear
Creative Writing Classes“Write your story in one go, then you’re done.”Fear of being mediocre or unproductive.
Productivity Gurus“The 5‑minute rule: finish a draft before coffee gets cold.”Fear of procrastination and time‑wasting.
Social Media“My manuscript is 10,000 words and I’m ready to publish.”Fear of social judgment—if you share, you’re judged.
Self‑Help Books“The perfect draft is the secret to success.”Fear of failure—if you don’t nail it the first time, you’re a failure.

The perfection‑first narrative is a defensive armor against self‑doubt. It tells us: If I can’t get it perfect right away, I’m not a real writer. The catch? It also paralyses us. The very act of writing becomes a high‑stakes performance, and performance anxiety is the enemy of creativity.

2. The Science of Drafting

2.1. Brain Plasticity & Idea Generation

Neuroscience shows that creative thinking is a two‑stage process:

  1. Divergent Thinking – generating raw, unfiltered ideas.
  2. Convergent Thinking – refining, selecting, and structuring those ideas.

During the divergent stage, the prefrontal cortex relaxes, allowing “no‑filter” thinking. This is the brain’s ideal mode for a first draft. Trying to be perfect at this stage forces the brain into convergent mode prematurely, stifling innovation.

2.2. The “Zeigarnik Effect”

The mind remembers unfinished tasks better than completed ones. An imperfect first draft stays active in your subconscious, feeding you subtle insights while you’re jogging, cooking, or taking a shower. In other words: the messier the draft, the more your brain continues to work on it.

3. What “Perfect” Actually Means

Before we trash the myth, let’s define perfect:

DimensionTypical ExpectationRealistic Goal
Grammar & MechanicsZero typos, flawless punctuationAccept a few minor errors; fix them in editing
StructureLogical flow, perfect pacingOutline first, then let the draft reveal gaps
Voice & ToneConsistent, “author‑approved”Capture your authentic voice; refine later
Idea CompletenessAll arguments fully fleshed outRough, exploratory ideas are fine; you’ll expand later

Perfect is a moving target. In a first draft, you are creating the material, not perfecting it. The goal is progress, not perfection.

4. The Cost of Chasing Perfection Early

CostHow It Shows UpImpact on Your Work
Time DrainEndless re‑reading, tweaking, and “just one more sentence.”Slower output → missed deadlines, burnout
Creative BlockFear of making a mistake → writer’s blockStunted ideas, fewer experiments
Reduced VoiceOver‑editing leads to a “generic” toneReaders sense the lack of authenticity
Lost MomentumConstantly stopping to fix → fragmented workflowDecreased overall word count, lower morale

When you try to turn a first draft into a final product, you’re essentially double‑booking your mental resources: you’re simultaneously creating and editing. That’s a recipe for chaos.

5. A Pragmatic Drafting Workflow

Below is a step‑by‑step system that acknowledges the messy nature of the first draft while ensuring you still end up with a high‑quality piece.

Step 1 – Set a “Draft‑Only” Timer

  • Duration: 15–45 minutes (adjust to length of the piece).
  • Rule: No pausing to edit, no back‑spacing. Write whatever comes to mind.
  • Why it works: You exploit the Zeigarnik effect and force divergent thinking.

Step 2 – Create a High‑Level Outline (Post‑Draft)

  • Sketch headings, sub‑headings, or scene beats.
  • Mark missing sections with placeholders (e.g., [INSERT EXAMPLE HERE]).
  • Outcome: You now have a roadmap for the next pass, without rewriting everything.

Step 3 – First “Clean‑Up” Pass – Macro Editing

  • Goal: Fix structure, logic, and flow.
  • Tasks:
    • Re‑order paragraphs or scenes.
    • Fill the placeholders.
    • Delete whole sentences/paragraphs that don’t serve the purpose.

(Think of this as “building the house” rather than “painting the walls.”)

Step 4 – Second Pass – Micro Editing

  • Goal: Polish language, tone, and mechanics.
  • Tools:
    • Grammar checkers (Grammarly, Hemingway, ProWritingAid).
    • Read aloud to catch awkward phrasing.
    • Use a style guide (APA, Chicago, AP) if needed.

Step 5 – Optional: Peer Review or “Beta Reader”

  • Ask for one focused piece of feedback (e.g., “Is the argument clear?”).
  • Incorporate suggestions only if they align with your vision.

Step 6 – Final Polish & Formatting

  • Check citations, images, links, SEO meta data, etc.
  • Run a final spell‑check.
  • Publish or submit.

TL;DR: Write fast, edit slower. Separate the creative sprint from the analytical marathon.

6. Real‑World Examples: When “Bad” Drafts Became Masterpieces

AuthorOriginal Draft DescriptionFinal Outcome
Ernest Hemingway“A dozen pages of rambling, drunk on whiskey.”The Old Man and the Sea – concise, powerful prose
J.K. Rowling“A 2,000‑word fragment about a boy and a school.”Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone – 76,944 words after multiple rewrites
Neil Gaiman“Pages of disjointed fairy‑tale ideas.”American Gods – won Hugo, Nebula awards
Anne Lamott“An essay that read like a diary entry, full of typos.”Bird By Bird – celebrated guide to writing

All of these authors embraced the mess. Their first drafts were far from perfect; what mattered was the willingness to return, revise, and refine.

7. Frequently Asked Questions

QuestionAnswer
Can I ever write a perfect first draft?Only if you define “perfect” as “good enough for you to stop writing.” For most projects, no.
What if I’m a perfectionist by nature?Set minimum quality thresholds (e.g., “no more than 5 sentences of passive voice”). Allow yourself a “good‑enough” box to tick before moving on.
Does the myth affect only creative writers?No. Academic papers, business proposals, and even code documentation suffer from the same pressure.
How many drafts are typical?Varies, but 3–5 passes (macro → micro → peer → final) is common. The key is quality over quantity.
What tools can help me separate drafting from editing?Distraction‑free writing apps (Scrivener, iA Writer), version control (Google Docs “Suggesting” mode), and timer apps (Pomodoro).

8. Bottom Line: Perfection Is a Destination, Not a Starting Point

The myth of the perfect first draft persists because we want quick validation. In reality, writing is a journey of transformation: raw thought → structured argument → polished narrative. Each stage needs its own mental mode and its own time budget.

So, the next time you sit down to write, ask yourself:

“Am I trying to be a novelist or a draftsman?”

If the answer is “draftsman,” give yourself permission to scrap, scribble, and stall. The perfect piece will emerge in the later passes—not in the first.

9. Take Action: Your 48‑Hour Draft Challenge

  1. Pick a piece (blog post, chapter, report) you’ve been postponing.
  2. Set a timer for 30 minutes and write without editing.
  3. Save the file, close it, and wait 24 hours.
  4. Return and do a macro edit using the workflow above.
  5. Celebrate any improvement, no matter how small.

Share your results in the comments or on Twitter with #DraftNotPerfect. Let’s collectively debunk the myth and prove that messy drafts lead to magnificent works.

Happy drafting, fearless editor! 🚀

The story behind the story – Echoes from the Past

The novel ‘Echoes from the past’ started out as a short story I wrote about 30 years ago, titled ‘The birthday’.

My idea was to take a normal person out of their comfort zone and led on a short but very frightening journey to a place where a surprise birthday party had been arranged.

Thus the very large man with a scar and a red tie was created.

So was the friend with the limousine who worked as a pilot.

So were the two women, Wendy and Angelina, who were Flight Attendants that the pilot friend asked to join the conspiracy.

I was going to rework the short story, then about ten pages long, into something a little more.

And like all re-writes, especially those I have anything to do with, it turned into a novel.

There was motivation.  I had told some colleagues at the place where I worked at the time that I liked writing, and they wanted a sample.  I was going to give them the re-worked short story.  Instead, I gave them ‘Echoes from the past’

Originally it was not set anywhere in particular.

But when considering a location, I had, at the time, recently been to New York in December, and visited Brooklyn and Queens, as well as a lot of New York itself.  We were there for New Years, and it was an experience I’ll never forget.

One evening we were out late, and finished up in Brooklyn Heights, near the waterfront, and there was rain and snow, it was cold and wet, and there were apartment buildings shimmering in the street light, and I thought, this is the place where my main character will live.

It had a very spooky atmosphere, the sort where ghosts would not be unexpected.  I felt more than one shiver go up and down my spine in the few minutes I was there.

I had taken notes, as I always do, of everywhere we went so I had a ready supply of locations I could use, changing the names in some cases.

Fifth Avenue near the Rockefeller center is amazing at first light, and late at night with the Seasonal decorations and lights.

The original main character was a shy and man of few friends, hence not expecting the surprise party.  I enhanced that shyness into purposely lonely because of an issue from his past that leaves him always looking over his shoulder and ready to move on at the slightest hint of trouble.  No friends, no relationships, just a very low profile.

Then I thought, what if he breaks the cardinal rule, and begins a relationship?

But it is also as much an exploration of a damaged soul, as it is the search for a normal life, without having any idea what normal was, and how the understanding of one person can sometimes make all the difference in what we may think or feel.

And, of course, I wanted a happy ending.

Except for the bad guys.

Get it here:  https://amzn.to/2CYKxu4

newechocover5rs

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 15

Day 15 – How to keep on track

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Staying on Track: How to Maintain Focus and Resist the Siren Call of Tangents in Your Writing

You’ve got the premise. The spark that ignited your novel, screenplay, or short story still glows brightly. You’ve outlined your plot, mapped your protagonist’s arc, and maybe even written the first few scenes. But then it happens—midway through chapter three, an exciting new character pops into your head. Or a fascinating subplot about ancient runes in the protagonist’s attic. Or a sudden urge to write a 1,000-word scene about your main character’s favourite coffee shop barista who definitely has a secret past.

Welcome to the writing life. Welcome to the beautiful, messy temptation of going off track.

Every writer knows this battle: the lure of the tangent. That moment when your imagination gallops ahead, eager to explore new territory—often at the expense of the story you set out to tell. So how do you stay focused? How do you keep your story on course when creativity keeps offering enticing detours?

Here’s how.

1. Remember Your “Why” — Revisit Your Premise

When the urge to veer strikes, pause. Take a breath. And re-read your original premise. Why did you start this story? What core idea, theme, or emotional journey drives it?

Ask yourself: Does this new idea serve the heart of the story? If the answer is no, no matter how brilliant the idea seems, it might be a distraction. You can always save it—more on that later.

Your premise is your anchor. Let it ground you when shiny new ideas try to pull you off course.

2. Use Your Outline as a Compass—Not a Cage

Even if you’re a discovery writer (“pantser”), having even a loose roadmap helps. Your outline doesn’t need to be rigid, but it should act as a compass pointing you toward your story’s destination.

When a tempting subplot or character appears, first consider: Where would this fit in the outline? Does it move the plot forward or deepen character development? Or is it just… interesting?

If it doesn’t serve a structural or emotional purpose, it’s probably a tangent. Not all tangents are bad, but they should earn their place in the narrative. If it doesn’t advance the plot, theme, or character arc—tread carefully.

3. Create a “Someday” Folder

Here’s the secret no one tells you: You don’t have to kill your darlings. You just have to postpone them.

Keep a “Someday” document—a digital notebook, a folder, a journal—where you stash every brilliant idea that doesn’t belong in this story. Character backstories, alternate endings, intriguing subplots, random world-building details—dump them here.

When you add to this folder, you’re honouring your creativity without derailing your progress. Later, you might realise this idea belongs in your next book, a side project, or a short story. You’ve just built a reservoir of inspiration.

4. Set Incremental Goals and Deadlines

Distraction often thrives in aimlessness. If you don’t have clear daily or weekly goals, your mind naturally wanders. “Write something” is too vague. “Write 500 words advancing the inciting incident” is focused.

Break your project into small, manageable tasks:

  • Flesh out Act 2 turning point
  • Rewrite the hospital scene with higher emotional stakes
  • Clarify the antagonist’s motivation

These micro-goals create momentum—and momentum keeps digressions at bay.

If you catch yourself daydreaming about a new character’s origin story during writing time, jot down one sentence in your “Someday” folder and return to your task. Reward focus with curiosity later.

5. Practice the “So What?” Test

When you’re tempted to add a scene, character, or subplot, ask: So what? What does this add to the story? What changes because this exists?

If the answer is: “It’s cool,” “It’s mysterious,” or “I just really like this idea”—that’s not enough.

Great stories thrive on cause and effect. Every element should ripple through the narrative. If your new subplot doesn’t change the outcome or deepen understanding, it might be excess baggage.

6. Schedule “Exploration Time”

Ironically, the best way to avoid constant veering is to allow veering—on purpose.

Set aside time—maybe 30 minutes every Friday—to explore side ideas. Write that barista’s backstory. Sketch the ancient runes. Flesh out the alternate timeline.

When you give your imagination a designated outlet, it stops demanding attention during drafting hours. It learns: Creativity has a time. Now is for focus.

7. Trust the Power of Revision

One of the biggest reasons writers go off track is fear—fear that their story isn’t interesting enough. So they add more: more drama, more mystery, more characters.

But here’s the truth: A strong, focused story is often more powerful than a sprawling one. You can enrich a solid core in revision. You can’t fix a scattered narrative by piling on more layers.

Write the story you meant to tell first. Then, in edits, ask: What’s missing? What needs depth? That’s when you decide whether to weave in some of those saved ideas—intentionally, not impulsively.

Final Thought: Focus Is a Muscle

Like any skill, focus strengthens with practice. The more you train yourself to return to your premise, honour your outline, and defer distractions, the easier it becomes.

You don’t have to suppress your creativity to stay on track. You just have to channel it wisely.

So the next time inspiration calls you down a winding path—smiling, promising adventure—smile back, take a note, and say:
“Not now. But maybe later.”

Then return to the road. Your story is waiting.

365 Days of writing, 2026 – 14

Day 14 – Having Fun with Ideas

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Having Fun with Ideas: Embrace Brainstorming and Unlock Your Creative Potential

Creativity isn’t just a gift—it’s a practice. And one of the most exhilarating parts of the creative process? The moment when wild, half-formed ideas start to take shape. Whether you’re a writer, game designer, filmmaker, or just someone who loves to dream up alternate worlds, the journey often begins with a single spark: What if?

In this post, we’ll explore the art of playful brainstorming and dive into creative methods for researching fictional concepts—because fiction isn’t just made up; it’s built, layer by imaginative layer.

The Magic of Brainstorming: Where Ideas Go to Play

Brainstorming isn’t just about generating ideas—it’s about giving them space to stretch, stumble, collide, and sometimes, shine. To truly harness its power, you have to embrace the mess. Forget perfection. The goal is volume, variety, and velocity.

Here’s how to turn brainstorming into a playground:

  • Set the Stage for Fun: Clear a physical or digital space where distractions are minimal and novelty is welcome. Use colourful sticky notes, whiteboards, or digital tools like Miro or Milanote. The more playful the environment, the more freedom your brain feels to roam.
  • Ditch the Filter: In the brainstorming phase, no idea is too silly, too strange, or too far-fetched. A world where cats govern nations? A time-travelling barista? Write it down. Often, absurdity holds the seed of something brilliant.
  • Combine and Remix: Take two unrelated concepts and smash them together. What happens when Victorian etiquette meets alien diplomacy? How does a superhero cope with seasonal affective disorder? Jarring combinations often spark originality.
  • Time-Box Your Sessions: Give yourself 10–15 minutes of pure, untamed ideation. The constraint fuels creativity and stops you from overthinking.

Remember: brainstorming isn’t about finding the idea—it’s about exploring all the ideas.

Researching the Unreal: Creative Ways to Build Believable Fiction

One of the great paradoxes of fiction is that the more fantastical the concept, the more grounded it needs to feel. Even in a galaxy far, far away, audiences crave internal consistency and emotional truth. That’s where creative research comes in.

You don’t need a lab or a library card to research dragons or dystopias—you need curiosity and lateral thinking.

1. Worldwatch Like a Journalist

Imagine you’re a reporter embedded in your fictional world. Interview its inhabitants. What do they eat? What music do they listen to? What superstitions do they hold? Building a culture—no matter how alien—starts with everyday details.

2. Mine Real-World Inspiration

History, mythology, nature, and technology are treasure troves. The social dynamics of bees might inspire a hive-mind society. Ancient Egyptian burial rituals could inform a futuristic afterlife belief system. Use real-world phenomena as springboards—then twist them.

3. Create a Sensory Map

Close your eyes and imagine walking through your fictional setting. What do you hear? The hum of hover cars? The chant of temple monks? The smell of burning incense or recycled air? Engaging multiple senses adds depth and immersion, even before you write a word.

4. Reverse-Engineer the Rules

If magic exists in your world, what are its limits? If humans can upload their consciousness, who controls the servers? Establishing logical systems—even in illogical realms—makes the impossible feel plausible.

5. Prototype with Play

Turn your idea into a mini-game, comic, or storyboard. Act out scenes with friends. Use Lego to model a space station. Prototyping helps you test ideas in a low-stakes way and often reveals flaws—or hidden brilliance—you’d miss on the page.

Make It a Habit: Creativity as a Joyful Routine

The best part of working with ideas is that you don’t need permission. You don’t need a deadline or a publisher. All you need is curiosity and the courage to play.

Set aside 20 minutes a week for pure idea exploration. Keep a “What If?” journal. Host brainstorming nights with creative friends. Let your imagination romp like a puppy in a field—uninhibited and joyful.

Because at its core, creativity isn’t about output. It’s about engagement—the thrill of asking questions, following rabbit holes, and discovering worlds that only you could build.

Final Thought: Let Yourself Be Silly

Some of the most beloved fictional worlds—from The Lord of the Rings to The Matrix to Parks and Recreation—began as someone’s “crazy idea.” The key wasn’t seriousness; it was persistence and playfulness.

So go ahead—brainstorm like no one’s watching. Research like a detective who loves puzzles. And above all, have fun with your ideas. Because when imagination dances freely, magic happens.

Now, grab a notebook and ask yourself: What if…? The next great story might be hiding in your silliest thought.

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What’s your favourite “What if?” moment? Share it in the comments—we’d love to play in your imaginary world, too.