I love the thrill and excitement of writing first drafts. I don’t know where they’re going or where they’ll end up next. It’s a journey faraway or close to home–no ticket, passport or suitcases needed. The joy and the chase of the words, the music and rhythm of consonants and vowels flowing together quickly to form thoughts, feelings and ideas. It’s a wild ride. I just jump on and trust it will take me where I need to go–near or far, left or right, naughty or nice. I’m catapulted up and over to divulge my dreams, share my secrets and follow a path to find the answers to my mysteries.

Or should I say to share my characters secrets and mysteries? I let them be who they want to be. I don’t edit them if they’re too sappy, sassy or sexy. I let them flow out of me, what they whisper to my heart. The characters lead the story, not me. Their settings are filled with luscious green leaves, crumpled beds and loud cocktail parties. They appear out of nowhere and float; sometimes gently and sometimes roughly onto the page–they find a place to live, they find courage and love. The story lines move along a narrow track; many times they come to a gentle stop, but occasionally they even plunge off a cliff.

My favorite first drafts get typed up and edited as poems, stories or novel scenes, and that’s when more surprises begin to appear. My characters show me what to add or subtract and push me to keep working on more drafts until the work is good enough to share with others.