Your First Draft Will Suck (And That’s Perfect): No-BS Guide to Writing Fiction That Actually Gets Finished

So, you’ve got this brilliant fiction idea, right? Maybe it’s a mind-blowing plot twist or a character so real you can practically hear them talking to you. You sit down, open that blank page, and…
Nothing.

Welcome to the glamorous world of writing fiction—where your first draft will suck. And guess what? That’s the whole point!

Here’s the secret every writer knows:
The first draft is supposed to be a hot mess. Every bestselling novel? It started out as a dumpster fire of terrible ideas, weird character names, and plot holes big enough to drive a bus through.
The trick isn’t to avoid writing garbage—it’s to embrace the garbage and get that first draft on paper.

In this guide, I’m going to show you how to blast through your first draft and stop stressing over every word. Ready to finally stop waiting and start writing?
Let’s dive in.

Why Most Writers Never Finish Their First Draft

Let’s be real for a second.

Most writers never finish their first draft.

They have ideas. They have notes. They have half-written chapters.
But a completed draft? Now that’s a unicorn.

Why?

Because two sneaky little monsters are standing between them and “The End”:

Perfectionism and Fear of Failure.

Let’s meet these draft-destroyers, shall we?

The Perfectionism Trap

Ahh, perfectionism. The classic, smooth-talking villain of the writing world.

It whispers things like:
“Don’t write that—it's not good enough!”
“This sentence needs to be PERFECT before you move on.”

And suddenly, instead of finishing your draft, you’re stuck rewriting the same paragraph for two hours.

Here’s the thing:

Perfectionism isn’t making you a better writer—it’s stopping you from being a writer at all.

Why?
Because you can’t edit what doesn’t exist.
And guess what? Your first draft isn’t supposed to be perfect. It’s supposed to be messy. It’s supposed to have plot holes, clunky dialogue, and scenes that make zero sense.

But you’ll never get to the point where you can fix it if you’re constantly obsessing over every word.

So here’s the deal: Kick perfectionism to the curb.

Write the bad sentence.
Leave that awkward dialogue.
Move on—even if it’s not perfect.

You’ll fix it later. But for now? Just get the words down.

The Fear of Failure (And Why It’s Stupid)

Now let’s talk about that other monster in the room: Fear of Failure.

This one’s a sneaky little voice that says:
“What if I’m not good enough?”
“What if my writing is trash and no one ever wants to read it?”
“What if I’m just fooling myself thinking I can do this?”

Guess what? All writers feel this way.

Here’s the truth: The only way to truly fail is to never finish.

Every successful writer has written bad scenes, cringe-worthy dialogue, and plots that went absolutely nowhere. But they didn’t let that stop them. They pushed through the fear of being “bad” and just kept writing.

Here’s the secret:

The more you write, the better you get.
But you can’t improve if you never finish that draft.

So, the next time that fear starts creeping in, tell it to take a hike.
Your job isn’t to write something “perfect” right now—it’s just to finish.

Your First Draft Isn’t Supposed to Be Good

Okay, real talk: Your first draft? It’s gonna be a glorious disaster.
A chaotic, messy, “did a 5-year-old write this?” kind of disaster. And that’s exactly how it should be.

Here’s a little secret: No first draft in the history of ever has been good.
Not yours. Not mine. Not even Stephen King’s (seriously, have you seen his rough drafts? They’re raw).

Your first draft isn’t supposed to be perfect. It’s supposed to be something.
Because you can’t edit what doesn’t exist—and if you wait for the words to come out perfectly, you’ll never write a thing.

Let’s dive into why embracing the mess is the best thing you can do for your writing (and your sanity).

Why a Bad First Draft Is Essential to a Great Story

You know how Michelangelo didn’t just grab a chisel and immediately carve the David?
He started with a giant hunk of marble and hacked away at it, bit by bit, until the masterpiece emerged.

Well, your first draft is that hunk of marble.
And right now, it’s more blob than David.
But that’s okay—because the masterpiece comes later. Right now? You just need the blob.

Every great story starts with a terrible first draft. Don’t believe me? Here’s a fun fact: J.K. Rowling wrote the first draft of Harry Potter on napkins and in random cafes. It was a jumbled, messy, inconsistent pile of ideas. And now? It’s one of the best-selling series in the world.

If you’re sitting there, staring at your screen, thinking, “Ugh, this is trash,” congratulations!
You’re on the right track.

The first draft isn’t about getting it right—it’s about getting it down. You’re gathering all the ingredients for your story, even if some of them are out of order or missing a pinch of salt.

Remember Hemingway’s famous words:
“The first draft of anything is sht.”*
And if Hemingway could say that about his writing, you better believe it’s okay for yours to look like a train wreck, too.

So, let that first draft be bad.
Let it be ugly.
Let it be full of plot holes and characters who do inexplicable things (like randomly deciding to become bakers halfway through a murder mystery—I’ve been there).

The point is to get the story out. You’ll fix it later.

The Power of Writing Fast and Fixing Later

Write fast. Fix later.
This is the superpower you need to unlock if you want to finish your draft before the next Ice Age.

Here’s why it works:
When you write fast, you trick your brain into shutting up.
That annoying little voice that keeps saying, “Is this any good? Shouldn’t you fix that sentence?”—you silence it by moving too quickly for it to catch up.

Imagine trying to cook a fancy dinner while a toddler pulls at your leg every five seconds asking for snacks. That toddler is your inner editor, and if you don’t outrun it, you’ll never get the meal (your draft) finished.

Case in point?
When J.K. Rowling (yes, I’m bringing her up again because she’s a boss) wrote Harry Potter, she wrote the rough draft in cafés, scribbling like a woman possessed. No editing. Just writing as fast as her hand could move. And it worked!

Want to know the trick?

• Set a timer for 20 minutes.
• Write like you’re being chased by an angry mob.
• Don’t stop. Don’t edit. Don’t even look back.

At the end of 20 minutes, you’ll have a huge chunk of writing.
Some of it might be nonsense, but guess what? You’ll have made progress.
And here’s the kicker: once you’ve got the words down, you can fix them.

I once tried writing slowly, tweaking each word as I went. And you know what? I got stuck. For days. Weeks, even. All because I was so busy making it perfect that I forgot the golden rule: You can’t edit a blank page.

So, stop trying to be perfect in the first draft. Write now. Fix later.

Real Writers Know the Secret: Editing Comes Later

Want to know the dirty little secret of all real writers?
Editing doesn’t happen while you write. It happens after.

If you’re trying to edit while you’re writing, you’re setting yourself up for a world of pain. You’ll end up with half-finished sentences, fragmented scenes, and a whole lot of frustration.

Here’s the deal: Your first draft is like a lump of clay.
You’re just slapping clay on the wheel, trying to get a basic shape. And yes, it looks like a weird blob right now. But once the blob is there? That’s when the real work begins.

Neil Gaiman (who knows a thing or two about writing) said, “The process of doing your second draft is the process of making it look like you knew what you were doing all along.”

That’s exactly it. Right now, you don’t need to know what you’re doing. You just need to keep adding clay to the wheel. Get the scenes written, even if they’re messy, confusing, and full of holes.

Because here’s the thing: Editing is where the magic happens.
But you can’t edit something that isn’t there. You can’t mold a statue out of thin air—you need the clay first.

When I finished my first draft, it was a total dumpster fire. Like, “I should probably just delete this and start over” bad. But I didn’t.
Instead, I went back and shaped it into something halfway decent. And then I shaped it some more. And you know what? By the end of the editing process, it didn’t even look like the original draft.

But I couldn’t have done that if I hadn’t embraced the mess first.

So, here’s the secret real writers know: Write the messy draft.
Write it badly. Write it fast. Write it all the way through.
Then, and only then, do you get to put on your editing hat and turn it into something beautiful.

But remember: Editing comes later. Right now, your job is to finish the draft.

How to Start Writing (And Keep Writing) Until You’re Done

So, you’ve finally made the decision to write. Huzzah! 🎉
Your brain’s buzzing with ideas, your characters are all raring to go, and the next great American novel is practically begging to be written.

But then...

You stare at the screen.

And you blink.
And blink.
...and nothing happens.

Well, my friend, you’re not alone. This is where most writers hit the wall.

You’ve got all these epic ideas in your head, but somehow, they get stuck on the journey from your brain to your fingers.
And before you know it, your coffee is cold, and you’re wondering if you’ll ever finish this darn draft.

Good news: You will.
With a few tricks (and a little humor), we’re gonna turn that wall into a speed bump.

Set Ridiculously Simple Writing Goals

Here’s the problem with most writing advice: It tells you to think big.
"Write 2,000 words a day!" they say.
"Finish your novel in a month!" they say.

But what do you say?

“Yeah... I’m gonna scroll TikTok instead.”

Because let’s be real—those goals sound great until you actually sit down to do them. Then suddenly, writing feels like climbing Mount Everest with a broken leg.
(And no sherpa in sight.)

So, here’s my advice:
Set goals so ridiculously simple, you can’t fail.
Like, absurdly simple.

Instead of aiming to write 1,000 words a day, aim to write 50.
Yup. Just 50 words.

Or instead of committing to a full hour of writing?
How about 10 minutes?

"That’s it?" you ask.

Yes. That’s it.
Because here’s the sneaky part: Once you get started, you’ll usually keep going. It’s science.

It’s like when you say you’ll just check one episode on Netflix and five hours later, you’re wondering why it’s 2 AM and you’re emotionally invested in a fictional wizarding school.

The key here is momentum.
Once you get rolling, the words will start flowing. The hardest part is just getting started.

So set a goal you can’t fail.
Write 50 words. Write for 10 minutes.
Before you know it? You’ll have pages.

Build a Consistent Writing Routine (Without Going Crazy)

Ahh, the mythical writing routine.
Every writer dreams of having that perfect routine—waking up at 5 AM, sipping artisanal coffee, and writing like a literary god for three uninterrupted hours.

But let’s face it:
Life doesn’t work like that.

The kids are screaming, the dog is barking, your inbox is overflowing, and somehow you’re supposed to fit in “creative genius time” in between all that?

Yeah, no.

Here’s the thing: You don’t need a perfect routine.
You need a realistic one.

That means writing when it works for you, not when some productivity guru says you should.
Are you a morning person? Cool. Write after breakfast.
More of a night owl? Awesome. Write after dinner.

Got a lunch break? Use it. (Yes, even if it’s just 15 minutes. You’d be surprised what you can get done in that time.)

The key isn’t how long you write. It’s that you do it consistently.

I’ll let you in on a little secret:
My writing routine? It’s all about tricking myself into sitting down. I make it an event. I’ve got my favorite playlist, my candle burning, and yes, sometimes there’s chocolate involved.

Because if writing is something you look forward to—instead of dread—you’re a whole lot more likely to stick with it.
And before you know it, your routine becomes a habit.

Don’t Edit While You Write (Here’s Why)

Here’s the fastest way to drive yourself crazy: Editing while you write.

Oh, it starts innocently enough. You write a sentence. Then you think, “Wait, does that sound right?”
So you tweak it. And tweak it again. And before you know it, you’ve spent two hours on three sentences, and you’ve convinced yourself you’re the worst writer in the world.

STOP.

Editing while writing is like trying to build a sandcastle while the tide’s coming in.
No matter how much you smooth it out, the water’s going to keep messing it up. You’re fighting a losing battle.

Here’s the truth:
Your first draft is SUPPOSED to be bad.

You’re going to write some truly terrible sentences. Your characters are going to make no sense. And your plot? Well, you might forget what it is halfway through.

But that’s okay.
You’re not building the final product right now—you’re just getting the raw material down.

Think of it like carving a statue.
Right now, you’re just slapping the clay onto the wheel. It’s gonna be a lumpy, weird blob. But you need the blob. The polishing, the perfection, the artistry? That comes later.

So, while you’re writing, lock your inner editor in a box and throw away the key. You’ll need them eventually—but not until you’ve finished the draft.

Let your first draft be messy.
Let it be ugly.
Let it be full of typos, bad dialogue, and characters who suddenly switch names halfway through.

You’ll fix it all later.
But only if you keep writing.

Tools and Tricks to Push Through Your First Draft

So, you’ve started your first draft. Hooray!
You’ve survived the dreaded blinking cursor. You’ve conquered that first blank page.

But now… you’re in the trenches.

The middle of the draft is where most writers start to lose steam. You’re knee-deep in plot twists that don’t make sense, characters who are suddenly acting like they’ve been hit on the head, and you’re wondering… “Do I even know what I’m doing anymore?”

But fear not! You can push through.
And the good news? I’ve got some supercharged tools to help you finish that draft without losing your sanity.

Use Timed Writing Sprints to Boost Productivity

Okay, let’s talk about writing sprints.

What’s a writing sprint? It’s like running a race—but for your brain.
You set a timer, write as fast as humanly possible, and BOOM—before you know it, you’ve banged out hundreds of words.

Why do sprints work?
Because they trick your brain into shutting up.

You see, when you know you only have 10 or 20 minutes to write, your brain doesn’t have time to throw up excuses like, “Is this any good?” or “Shouldn’t I be tweaking that sentence for the 50th time?”

You don’t have time for that nonsense. You’re racing against the clock.

J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t sit around wondering if every sentence was perfect while writing The Lord of the Rings—he just wrote. (Okay, maybe he didn’t do sprints, but you get the point!)

I tried this once when I was stuck in the “perfect sentence” trap, and let me tell you, it was like taking a shot of adrenaline. I set a timer for 20 minutes, and when it went off, I had more words down than I’d written all week.

Here’s how you do it:

• Set a timer for 10, 15, or 20 minutes.
• Write like a caffeinated squirrel.
• Don’t stop, don’t look back, and don’t fix anything.

When the timer goes off, you’ll be amazed at how much you’ve written. And guess what? It’s okay if some of it’s trash. You can fix it later.

But for now? It’s all about getting words down.

Keep Momentum with Simple Plot and Character Notes

Ever feel like you’ve lost the plot… literally?
Like, you’re halfway through your draft, and you’re thinking, “Wait, why is this character even here?”

It’s a common problem. And it’s the reason why I recommend keeping things simple.

When you’re drafting, don’t overcomplicate your plot or character arcs. You’re not writing a detailed outline for a PhD thesis. You’re just trying to get the story moving. So, instead of diving into a 50-page plot outline, keep it simple with a few key notes.

Here’s the trick:
Keep a bare-bones outline next to you while you write. I’m talking bullet points, not War and Peace.

Something like:

• Chapter 12: Hero discovers secret map. Villain watches from the shadows.
• Character X: Has secret fear of clowns, which is revealed in awkward circus scene.

That’s it.
Just enough to remind you where the heck your story is going.

Even George R.R. Martin, the author of Game of Thrones, has said that sometimes he writes without knowing where his characters are going to end up. He’s a “gardener,” planting seeds and watching them grow. But you know what keeps him on track? Simple notes about what each character wants and where they’re heading.

I tried once to write without any notes, thinking I was going to be a free-spirited, seat-of-the-pants kind of writer. Spoiler: I got lost.
Now, I always keep a few key plot and character notes nearby to keep things on track.

The simpler, the better.
Just enough to stop you from going off on a wild, unplanned subplot about your character’s newfound love of llama farming.

Use Prompts or Story Generators When You’re Stuck

We’ve all been there.
You’re chugging along, the words are flowing… and then? WHAM. You hit a wall.
“What happens next?!”

Cue the internal panic.

When you’re stuck, don’t sit there staring at the screen, hoping inspiration will strike (trust me, it won’t). Instead, grab a prompt or use a story generator to jumpstart your creativity.

Writing prompts are like little brain hacks. They give you a nudge in the right direction, get your creative gears turning, and break you out of that writing funk.

Real-life example?
When Ray Bradbury was writing Fahrenheit 451, he famously used prompts to break through writer’s block. He’d throw random words at himself—“carnival,” “fire,” “book”—and see where they took him. (Spoiler: It led to one of the most iconic dystopian novels of all time.)

I once hit a wall writing a scene where my hero was supposed to escape from a collapsing cave. I had NO idea how to make it exciting. So, I Googled some prompts, and one said, “What’s the one thing your character would never do?” That question flipped the scene on its head, and suddenly I had a thrilling, unexpected escape.

Here’s what you can do:

• Look up fiction prompts online (there are TONS).
• Use a story generator to spark ideas.
• Ask yourself a random question about your characters—“What’s the worst thing that could happen to them right now?” or “What would they never, ever say?”

You’ll be surprised how quickly you’ll go from “I have no idea what happens next” to “Oh! This is perfect!”

Prompts are like creative jet fuel.
When you’re stuck, they give you the push you need to blast through the block and get the words flowing again.

What Comes After the First Draft? (Hint: Not Perfection)

First of all: CONGRATULATIONS!
You did it. You’ve reached that mythical land called “The End”. You’ve actually finished your first draft!

But… now what?

You’re probably staring at that heap of words thinking: “Uhh… this is… something?”
Or maybe: “Wow… this might actually be trash.”

And you know what?
That’s okay!

Because the job of a first draft isn’t to be perfect—its job is to exist. And now it does! You’ve taken the hardest step: finishing the darn thing.

So, now that you’ve survived the first-draft battlefield, what comes next? (Spoiler: it’s not ripping your draft apart with a red pen just yet.)

Celebrate Finishing (Yes, Even If It Sucks)

First things first: Celebrate the heck out of finishing that first draft.

Seriously. You know what most people never do? They never finish their first draft. They start, they write a few chapters, maybe even get halfway… then the perfectionism monster shows up, and they abandon ship.

But not you.
You made it to the finish line. Sure, the finish line might look like a hot mess right now, but who cares? You did it!

So what should you do now?
Here’s your checklist:

1. Throw yourself a mini-party. Crack open a bottle of champagne, sparkling water, or whatever makes you feel fancy.
2. Run around the house screaming, “I DID IT!” Bonus points if you get someone to join you.
3. Take a selfie with your manuscript (or laptop) and post it somewhere. Let the world know you’re a freaking writer now.

Because here’s the deal: Most people never get here. They get stuck in the land of perfectionism and second-guessing. But you? You stuck with it. You powered through the awkward middle, survived the unexpected plot twists, dealt with characters who refused to do what you planned, and still made it to the end.

And here’s the best part:
It doesn’t matter if it sucks.

Your first draft wasn’t supposed to be a work of art. It was supposed to be a work-in-progress. And now you’ve got the progress. So take a moment and celebrate it—because that’s something to be proud of.

The Next Step: Taking a Break Before Editing

Alright, now that you’ve thrown your mini-party and basked in the glory of finishing, I know what you’re thinking…

“Time to dive back in and fix everything, right?”

WRONG.

Step away from the manuscript.
I repeat: Step. Away.

You’ve just spent weeks (or months, or let’s be honest—maybe years) living in this story. You’ve been so deep in it that your characters probably feel more real than the people in your life. Right now? You’re too close.

You can’t see the forest for the trees. You’re tangled up in all the details, the plot holes, the pacing issues, and the awkward dialogue. You might even be ready to grab a red pen and start tearing the whole thing apart.

STOP.

The next step isn’t editing.
The next step is to take a break.
A real break.

Not a “I’ll step away for an hour” break.
Not even a “I’ll get a coffee and come back” break.
I’m talking a week-long (at least!) break.

Why?
Because right now, your brain is too immersed in the story to be objective. You can’t see it clearly because you’ve been living in it.

The Power of Fresh Eyes

Taking a break isn’t just about giving yourself a chance to binge on Netflix guilt-free (though, honestly, you totally should).

It’s about giving your brain time to reset.

Imagine your brain is a computer—it’s been running hot from all that creative processing. It’s time to hit restart.

Here’s what happens when you give yourself space:

• That subplot you thought was clever? You’ll spot the dead end before you can say, “Plot hole.”
• That scene that felt like it was flying? Oh boy, you’ll see the drag. It’s like watching a slow-motion replay that never ends.
• And that piece of dialogue that made you feel like a genius? Well… let’s just say you’ll rethink it.

Fresh eyes are like upgrading from blurry vision to 20/20 clarity.
Suddenly, you’ll see everything: the parts that sparkle… and the parts that need a major overhaul.

But here’s the trick: You only get those fresh eyes by stepping away.

If you try to edit right now, you’ll defend every misplaced comma and awkward sentence like it’s your beloved pet.

So step away.
Take that well-earned break, and when you come back? You’ll be ready to see your story with a whole new perspective.

What Should You Do During Your Break?

Now for the fun part: Do anything but writing.

Yeah, you heard me.

After weeks (months? years?) of wrestling with your story, it’s time to recharge those creative batteries.
And here’s how you do it:

• Binge-watch that show you’ve been eyeing. (Preferably one that has nothing to do with your genre.)
• Read a book that’s so different from what you’re writing, it feels like you’re living on another planet.
• Take up a hobby. You’ve always wanted to try knitting, right? Or hey, how about extreme ironing? (Yes, it’s a real thing.)

The point is: Give your brain something else to focus on.
Let it relax. Because when your brain isn’t constantly obsessing over character arcs and plot twists, that’s when the magic happens in the background.

And if you’re worried about losing your creative spark?
Don’t be.

When you come back after a week or two, you’ll have a whole new outlook on your story. Trust me—you’ll thank yourself later.

The One Thing You Absolutely Shouldn’t Do

Alright, now listen closely:

Do NOT open that document.
Do not touch that manuscript.
I’m serious.

I know you’re itching to dive back in and fix things. But if you start editing now?
You’ll be stuck in a loop, rewriting the same scene over and over… with zero progress.

Why? Because right now, you’re still too close to it.

You’re going to get sucked into the weeds, obsessing over minor details, and lose sight of the big picture.

You need distance.
You need clarity.
You need time to forget some of what you wrote so you can come back and see the good stuff—and the not-so-good stuff—with fresh, objective eyes.

So here’s the plan:
Close the document.
Walk away.
And don’t even think about touching it for at least a week (preferably two).

When you finally return? You’ll be able to look at it with fresh focus.
You’ll spot the plot holes, the pacing issues, and the bits that are actually pretty great—and know exactly what to do next.

Your future self will be doing a happy dance.

Still Here? You’ve Got Writing on the Brain.

Let’s be real… you're this close to finally getting that story out of your head and onto the page, but something’s been holding you back, right? Maybe you’ve got a brilliant idea but no clue where to start? Or you’re just sitting there, staring at a blank screen like it's mocking you.

Well, good news! You don’t have to do it alone.

Join my newsletter, and every day, I’ll send you killer writing tips, storytelling hacks, and creative challenges to get your ideas flowing faster than you can say “writer’s block.”

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