Why Messy First Drafts Are Key to Great Fiction (And How to Get Comfortable with Them)

It’s a late night, the glow of your screen is the only light in the room, and you’re sure you’re about to crank out a masterpiece. You start typing, but then…

BAM.

You hit a wall.

The sentences sound like something pulled from a cheesy high school essay. The dialogue is clunky, the pacing is off, and your main character? They’ve turned into a walking, talking cliché.

That was me. Struggling with draft after draft, trying to make it perfect on the first go. (Spoiler: it never was.)

But here’s the dirty little secret I learned the hard way: your first draft is supposed to suck.

And that’s not just coming from me—one of the best examples of this is from none other than... Terry Pratchett.

Yes, the brilliant mind behind Discworld.

But hold on, I’ll get to him in a second. First, let’s talk about the philosophy of messy first drafts, why you NEED them, and why—if you’re not comfortable with a bit of chaos—you’ll never get that novel finished.

Terry Pratchett’s “Big Bag of Ideas” Approach

Let me tell you about Terry Pratchett, one of the most prolific authors out there—he wrote more than 41 Discworld novels (yeah, you read that right—41). And you know how he did it?

He embraced the chaos of messy first drafts.

Pratchett didn’t sit down and carefully plot out every single chapter before he started writing. In fact, he famously said he viewed his writing process like digging around in a compost heap.

Compost heap?!

Yep. Terry Pratchett described writing as chucking a bunch of ideas—half-formed, messy, chaotic—into a big mental compost heap. Then, over time, those ideas would start to ferment, break down, and eventually, something useful (and hilarious) would grow out of it.

His first drafts weren’t perfect. They weren’t even close. They were filled with ideas that didn’t quite work, scenes that went nowhere, and jokes that needed polishing. But Pratchett knew that the magic of writing wasn’t in getting it right the first time—it was in letting those messy ideas ferment into something worth refining later.

The Philosophy of Messy Drafts: Creativity is Born in Chaos

You can’t have creativity without chaos.

Yup. I said it. And if that’s making your inner control freak twitch, then buckle up, because we’re about to dive headfirst into the glorious mess that is your first draft.

Let me break it down for you:

Your first draft? Yeah, it’s like one of those giant sandboxes you used to play in as a kid. You’re out there building castles, smashing them, digging random holes, and throwing sand around like you’ve had too much sugar. Sometimes you end up with a masterpiece… and sometimes you’ve got a pile of rubble that looks like a sand tornado hit it.

And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

Your first draft isn’t meant to look like a shiny, polished book. It’s supposed to be a glorious disaster, a sandbox where your brain can throw around wild ideas without caring if they make sense yet. The mess is your playground. It’s where your creativity gets to have a wild party, free of judgment.

Now, here’s where it all goes wrong: You sit down to write, and instead of letting yourself play, you’ve got this tiny little gremlin in your brain whispering, “That sentence sucks. What are you doing? This is terrible. You’re terrible. Let’s just… start over, okay?”

And the second you start listening to that voice?

BAM.

You freeze.

Your creativity gets tossed in a straitjacket, and all that fun you were supposed to be having in the sandbox? Gone.

You know what Terry Pratchett did? He didn’t sit down and say, “Today, I will write an instant classic.” No. He sat down, threw everything into a mental compost heap, and let it ferment into something great later.

Your job, my friend, is to make that mess. Build those weird sandcastles, smash them down, dig holes everywhere, and trust that once you’ve made the mess, you can come back with a shovel (or an editor) to clean it up.

So next time you’re staring at your draft thinking, “What the heck am I doing?” just smile, lean back, and say, “I’m making a mess—and that’s how the magic happens.”

My Own Breakthrough: The Moment I Realized My First Draft Was Supposed to Be Trash

I used to be that writer.

You know the one I’m talking about—the one who spends hours polishing the first 500 words. Then re-reading it. Then tweaking it. Then re-reading it again. And guess what? By the time I had my “perfect” 500 words, I had absolutely ZERO momentum left to write the next 500.

You see, I thought, “Hey, if I can just get the beginning perfect, the rest will just fall into place.”

WRONG. Like, seriously wrong.

I spent WEEKS doing this. I became a champion at writing 500 “perfect” words and abandoning stories. (Someone get me a medal, please.)

The turning point?

It came when I stumbled across Terry Pratchett’s glorious writing philosophy, which can be summed up as: "I’ll sort out the chaos later."

Yep, Terry Pratchett—the guy who wrote over 41 Discworld novels—was a big believer in messy first drafts. He didn’t sit there agonizing over every word like I was doing. No. He threw ideas around, piled up a heap of messy chaos, and trusted that future Terry would clean up the wreckage later.

And I thought to myself: “Well, if Terry can do it… why the heck can’t I?”

So, I decided. I gave myself permission to write a truly atrocious draft. Like, the kind of draft that would make my inner critic scream and run away, never to return.

And you know what?

IT. WAS. AWESOME.

Ideas started pouring out. My characters went from stiff mannequins to living, breathing, mess-making lunatics. Plot twists just popped up out of nowhere like, “Surprise! Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

Sure, the draft was a dumpster fire. But guess what?

It was a finished dumpster fire.

And let me tell you: A finished trashy first draft is infinitely better than an abandoned “perfect” opening scene. Because here’s the secret they don’t tell you: You can’t edit a blank page, but you can polish the heck out of a garbage draft.

So, there you have it. The day I stopped trying to make my first draft perfect was the day I actually became a writer.

Now go. Make a mess. Future you will thank you for it.

How to Get Comfortable with Writing a Messy First Draft (AKA, the Art of Not Freaking Out When It’s Garbage)

Okay, so I know what you’re thinking.

“Alright, fine. I get it—first drafts are supposed to be messy. But, seriously… how do I actually stop my brain from screaming ‘this is trash’ every time I type?”

I feel you. Been there, done that. And look, I’ve got your back.
Let’s break this down into four simple steps to turn you into the kind of writer who actually enjoys making a creative mess.

Step 1: Start with a Compost Pile (A Grossly Underappreciated Writing Hack)

Imagine this. You’re in Terry Pratchett’s mind (stick with me here). Now, instead of trying to be all neat and tidy, you just chuck all your ideas into a giant mental compost heap. Don’t worry about whether they’re good or bad, genius or garbage.

Got an idea that makes zero sense? Throw it in!
Random scene that has no place in your plot yet? Toss it!

Your first draft? It’s basically one big, smelly brain dump of half-baked ideas and wonky dialogue. And that’s the whole point. Like compost, it’s gonna look like a pile of junk at first, but eventually… that mess? Oh yeah, it’s gonna fertilize something beautiful.

The takeaway? Don’t be precious about your ideas. Let them rot, mingle, and decay. The gold will come later. Right now, you’re just getting stuff out of your head and onto the page. No judgment.

Step 2: Write Like It’s Your Diary (But Without the Embarrassing High School Crush Stuff)

Let me let you in on a trick that completely changed the game for me: Write like no one else will ever read it.

No seriously—stop imagining that your first draft is going to be seen by anyone but you. No editor, no reader, not even your dog gets to see this thing.

This draft? It’s your private playground. A place where you can be as weird, messy, and downright awful as you want, because no one else will ever know.

The beauty of this? When you take away the pressure of other people’s judgment, your creativity can finally breathe. And the funny thing? Once you give yourself permission to be bad… you’ll actually start finding some good stuff in there.

Step 3: Write Fast, Edit Slow (AKA, Don’t Let the Editor in Yet)

Okay, so here’s where most writers screw up (and yes, I’ve been guilty of this too): they start editing before they’ve even finished the draft.

You know that temptation to go back and “just fix that one little sentence”? Don’t do it. It’s a trap!

When you’re in the first draft phase, it’s all about speed. Write fast, edit slow. Your job right now is to get the story out of your brain as quickly as possible. It’s like you’re trying to outrun your inner critic. Just sprint to the end of the story, and then—and ONLY THEN—do you slow down to polish things up.

Remember: Terry Pratchett didn’t stop to fix every single sentence while writing 41 Discworld novels. Neither should you.

Step 4: Put the Creative Brain in the Driver’s Seat (And Tell the Editor to Take a Nap)

Look, your brain has two modes when it comes to writing: Creative Mode and Editor Mode. The creative part? That’s the fun, playful side—the one that comes up with wild ideas, crazy plot twists, and character moments that make you go, “Whoa, where did THAT come from?”

But the editor? That’s the part that’s constantly tapping you on the shoulder, whispering in your ear, “Hey, that sentence is trash. You should rewrite it. Right now. This very second.”

Here’s what you do:
For your first draft, Creative Mode gets the steering wheel.
Tell the Editor to take a nap in the backseat until you’re ready for revisions. Trust me. The Editor will get their turn later (and they’ll LOVE tidying up the chaos you’ve created). But for now? Creative Mode runs the show.

There You Have It: Your Permission Slip to Write a Glorious Mess

So, to recap:

1. Throw everything into the compost—yes, even the weird, half-baked ideas.
2. Write like no one will ever read it—because guess what? They won’t.
3. Write fast, edit slow—the Editor stays in the backseat for now.
4. Let your Creative Mode go wild—Editor Mode will get their shot later.

And now that you’ve got the game plan?

Go make a mess. The more chaotic, the better. You can always clean it up later. Just remember: The real magic in writing comes from letting yourself be gloriously, unabashedly imperfect.

Now get out there and create your masterpiece-in-progress.

(And if it looks like a train wreck, great. You’re doing it right.)

The Power of the Mess: Chaos as a Path to Genius (Yes, Seriously)

You know those moments when you’re reading a book,

and a plot twist hits you so hard you practically scream, “WHAT?! I did NOT see that coming!”? Or when a character does something so perfect, so right, it’s like the author has some kind of telepathic connection with the universe?

Guess what?

Those moments? They didn’t come from a perfectly planned, meticulous first draft.

Nope.

They came from the chaos.

See, here’s the thing nobody tells you about writing: The real magic happens in the mess.

Yep. The mess. That dumpster-fire, “What am I even doing?” first draft? That’s where the gems are hiding.

You know why? Because when you stop trying to make every single word perfect, you give your brain the freedom to throw out some wild, unexpected stuff. I’m talking about those moments of pure, unfiltered creativity where your characters suddenly start doing things you didn’t even plan. The plot twists that just pop out of nowhere, and you’re like, “Who wrote this?!”

Those “aha” moments? They don’t show up when you’re carefully crafting every sentence. They show up when you let go and let the chaos take the wheel for a bit.

Terry Pratchett? The guy was throwing ideas into a mental compost heap and just trusting that something amazing would grow out of it.

And guess what?

It did. It TOTALLY did.

So next time you’re sitting there thinking, “This draft is an absolute train wreck,” just smile to yourself and remember: In the middle of all that chaos, there’s genius waiting to happen.

You’ve just got to wade through the mess to find it. (And trust me—when you do, it’ll be worth it.)

Now go make that compost heap of a first draft. Something incredible will grow from it.

FINAL THOUGHTS (Because We’re Done Here, Right?)

Now, before you go rushing off to write your messy first draft, let me give you one last (and VERY important) piece of advice:

Stop being so hard on yourself.

Seriously. Terry Pratchett didn’t get it right the first time. Neither did I. And I can promise you that every single writer—from the ones penning 100-page novellas to those cranking out epic trilogies—had to wade through a swamp of chaotic, half-baked ideas before they hit gold.

The mess isn’t just some annoying thing you have to deal with. It’s part of the process.

Your first draft is supposed to be a disaster. That’s how stories are born. It’s not the finish line—it’s the starting point.

So, don’t be the writer who endlessly edits chapter one. Don’t be the one who agonizes over every word before they’ve even figured out where their characters are going.

Be the writer who dives into the mess headfirst, who embraces the chaos, and who trusts that once they’ve splattered all those half-formed ideas onto the page, they’ll be able to carve something amazing out of it.

Now go. Make that mess. Get your story out there. (And if it looks like a train wreck, great! You’re doing it right.)

And remember…

Terry Pratchett would approve.