Her chocolate brown hair fell over the back of her desk onto mine. You might as well have put me in the stocks, the medieval stretcher, than to place me directly behind her. Sixth grade’s goddess of all goddesses. Her name alone gnawed at hormones I never knew I had. Penelope Davenport. Though it took two months, I finally drummed up enough courage to say hello, and I was shocked. She gave me a few moments of her time.
“We have science together, right?” she said, my jaw bouncing off the speckled floor.
I sit right behind you! You swing your hair in my face daily! I’ve even picked up your pencil once or twice when you’ve dropped it!
I know it sounds crazy, but I didn’t care. We’d made small-talk, and that’s all it took before I’d pledged my heart to her. Those were the best three days of my life. Yeah—I said three days. Why? Todd Stevens. The Todd Stevens, quarterback, blonde hair, blues eyes, already on steroids Todd Stevens. My first love gone like my allowance ‘cuz I used it to buy her a ring. I was so sure she was the one.
I was so sure she was the one. How many times have we completed a paragraph or a chapter even and swore that even Steven King would be jealous? That first draft—so easy to fall in love with because of the countless hours you’ve spent together. Drawing upon the muse and flooding the page with your once in a lifetimes story!
Most writers experience what I like to call the Writing Zone. Not unlike the Twilight Zone, we finish a section of our novel or short story and bask in the mystery. Where on earth did that come from? Like one of my favorite episodes with William Shatner who sees the monster on the airplane wing 30,000 feet in the air. We float as well because the words came so easily. The characters had a voice, and all we had to do was translate it. Every dot and tittle worked to perfection. We do what most experts say to do and leave it alone for a few days, come back, and it’s still the best thing we’ve ever written. Oh—but is it really?
A songwriter for over thirty years, on occasion I’ve written a lyric/song in around ten minutes and never had to touch it again, but that was rare. Extremely rare. Here are a few things to consider after you’ve written your first love—uh—I mean draft.
- Sensory details.
Will the reader see, taste, smell, feel, and hear your story? Or will you leave too much to their imagination? I’m not talking about sensory overload like some writers insist on doing, but enough to place the reader into your setting.