#zero draft

[bebewrites]

I promise I searched your blog, but how do you (specifically) zero draft? The post that showed up in a search of your blog was like, bullet point writing whatever is in your head for the.wip, which I think is v cool and would help me finish lofm! So I'm curious how you do it!

Oh yes, okay! I don't think I've actually explained it anywhere, but I love talking about this.

what is a zero draft?

The great thing about a zero draft is that you can pretty much make it whatever you need it to be. For me, I was having a hard time with the middle of my story. I've started and stopped this wip so many times, always getting hung up at the same part as I approach the middle. I've always had a very clear picture of the beginning and the end, but never how to get all the way through from point A to point B. My original outline had things in brackets like [character growth] and [plot stuff], but what does that mean!?

My goal was to get all the way through. So I opened a blank document, started at the beginning, and literally rambled and talked my way through the entire story. I didn't write real prose. It was all stream of consciousness. It was me describing what happens in the story as if I was telling it to a friend. The zero draft was my rubber duck. This was my brainstorming document. I used common vernacular and slang and abbreviations. There are bullet points, numbered lists, sidebars where I rambled about a scene I completely forgot to mention in a previous section. Lots of comments about things I need to include in the next draft. Literally anything and everything I thought of went into the zero draft.

A zero draft can be as long or short as you need it to be. Mine ended up being around 40k words. But I've seen other people say a zero draft is 10k to 20k words. It's really up to you! And when you feel like you've covered enough of the story to move on to the next draft.

And you don't have to go about a zero draft the way I did! Recently, an author I love and follow on instagram (Casey McQuiston) shared in their stories that when they were writing their most recent book, they zero drafted each chapter before they wrote it out. Casey said that because of this, it was first time they didn't have major edits and rewrites afterwards. So if you find yourself needing a little more structure and sense of where you're going, I think a zero draft could be super helpful!

Of course you don't have to have a zero draft, and if you've got a good sense of the plot and character arcs, you might not need one. But it can be a great way to brainstorm and figure out those things if you need to!

[writtenbyaris]

my creative writing process as a planner 🌟

the idea:

story ideas come to me at the most random and inconvenient of times. right before i fall asleep, when i'm in the shower, during my classes, etcetera. my main rule is to always write them down, whether it's in my notes app or a slip of paper or a journal... i'll forget it if i don't.

i try keeping it simple at this stage and not thinking too deeply about it, otherwise it becomes quite overwhelming. sometimes ¡'ll make a pinterest board depending on what the idea is. if it's more of an aesthetic, then i can make a moodboard out of it to help inspire me more. however, if the idea is a plot of some sort, that can be a bit more difficult.

character and world building:

this is my favorite part. once i have an idea set in stone and i'm ready to work on it, i begin building the characters and the world around it. i figure out the mechanics of the idea and how it can relate to characters and the world they're in.

at this point, i'm definitely making pinterest boards, playlists, and picrews to feel more immersed in the skeleton of the story.

i still keep it as simple as possible, and try to enjoy it. when i try juggling too many things at once, i end up wanting to abandon the project. slow and steady is the key for me :)

creating the story:

now we get down to what being a writer actually is.. transforming the idea into a story. i have to at least come up with one major plotline to start. i usually write in my journal during this stage, but sometimes i'll use notion to organize everything and keep track of it all.

oftentimes, the main plot will come to me when i'm working on character and world building. sometimes it's even the idea that first popped into my head. the story is usually influenced by dreams i've had, my own every day experiences, and other media i consume.

arcs, subplots, themes, etc:

this stage is for the smaller details that are vital for the story to flow and actually work. it's like a puzzle that's finally coming together.

for me, a story isn't a good one without arcs and themes, so those are of utmost importance. subplots are necessary to make the world more immersive, give readers insight on the characters, and keep the story naturally flowing. everything has to be woven back in to the main plot or idea, though.

i will say, this is the stage that tends to give me the biggest headache :P

zero draft:

jumping into a first draft as a heavy planner is too scary for me. so i came up with the idea of a zero draft. basically- zero expectations.

this is the backbone of my story. in this stage, i'm basically just taking myself through the steps of the story. i organize the plot and subplots into chapters, and with each chapter i go through all the beats of each scene. literally every. single. thing. that happens.

i don't usually include dialogue in this phase, but i do mention when a character will be in a conversation. all the focus should be on putting a needle and thread through the story and tying it all together.

first draft:

the first draft is somewhat easier for me because i do a zero draft. so, i know everything that will happen in a chapter and just have to utilize my writing abilities to make it rhythmic.

this is the first stage where i write dialogue, so it tends to be corny. a lot of my writing can be cliche and basic as well. that's what editing is for though!

i usually stress the most when writing my first draft, because it's the first time the story is actually being written in the format of a novel. by the end, it's not always very good either. but i do not look back at all, which means absolutely no editing until the first draft is finished.

and so on…

once the first draft is finished, then comes draft two. it's enjoyable to be able to read your own work all over again, though it's sometimes embarrassing as writing does improve with practice.

i focus on one chapter at a time-reading slowly, editing, filling in plot holes, fixing anything that changed later in the story. i try to catch as many details as i can.

usually, after as many rounds of editing one likes, the draft would be sent to an editor and beta readers. then i'd look into publishing companies (can you tell i haven't gotten to that point yet? lol)

are you a planner or a pantser?

[vibewithkai]

masquerade

Music flooded the halls of the castle and sent goosebumps down her arms. The light woodwinds dancing with the thundering of drums sent her heart racing. She shouldn't be here. She should be hulled away in her quarters, nose in one of the many books scattered about her desk, practicing her languages or even sleeping off the long week she's had. Yet something had her spending her rations on an extravagant sage gossamer gown that flowed like the wind from her waist, had her swiping the heels from a merchant that had stiffed her last week and sliding various pins into her raven black hair. Slowly, she approached the guards at the nearest entrance and shifted her wrist to show the emblem branded into her skin. With a nod, the ballroom doors were opened and she loosed a breath. Hundreds of people filled the room as they danced and laughed and drank to the sounds made by the band on the small stage before them. Each and every person had adhered to tonight's theme and wore varying sized masquerade masks. Some had their entire face covered while others covered only their eyes, all of which were breathtaking. Though admittedly, not always for good reason. Alina's own mask covered most of her nose and cheeks, only her chestnut brown eyes shone through, a fact she was very grateful for as she felt many men look her way. Ignoring the blood that rushed to her cheeks, she smiled and took a flute of champagne from one of the many servers making rounds around the room. Once she drank every drop from her glass, she immersed herself in the crowd. Most people had started partying long before her arrival and would continue to do so long after she left, but for now, she was among them and she was going to have fun. She was going to be someone else tonight. Dancing her way through the sea of faceless souls, Alina felt exhilarated. She had not felt this free, this alive in quite some time and she was not sure she would ever feel this way again. She wanted to pause time and live this way forever. To simply live, to simply laugh among those who want the same. Her thoughts were interrupted as a cold splash had her stopping in her tracks. Turning, she saw a masked man with an empty champagne flute, smiling at her. "My apologies, miss. It appears your gown is wet," he said with about as much charm as a dung beetle. The two men at his sides chuckled. "Perhaps you would like some help taking it off?"

Alina rolled her eyes. They noticed. "Oh come on. My boys and I are perfect gentlemen." Alina simply turned to walk away. Though her annoyance had her jaw tight, she resigned to let it go. No need to sour a good night over people so inconsequential. That was, until the dung beetle gripped her by her wrist and yanked her backwards. Whipping around and glaring at him, he gave a smile that was more like a baring of teeth than anything else. "It's rude to walk away from a gentlemen without saying anything." Alina stared into his dark eyes and forced steady breaths into her lungs. She wanted to strike him. She wanted his head in her hands and his body lifeless on the floor. That, though, would certainly spoil the night for everyone else and bring unwanted attention to her. Maybe there was a way if she lured him-- "I think laying your hands on a lady without permission is the higher offense," said a cool, male voice from behind her. "I suggest you let her go." This only garnered a laugh from the dung beetle. "Back off pal, we're just having some fun." "This is a sad excuse for fun. Or, maybe just a sad excuse for a man?"

"What did you just say?" The dung beetle shouted.

"Oh no, is your hearing as awful as your manners? Maybe you should look into remedies for that."

"Fuck you," the dung beetle spat. "If you know what's good for you you'll back off and leave us to our party."

The man behind her only laughed. It was the kind of laugh she knew well, one she has used many times. Not one of humor, but one of malice. One that seeped venom into the floorboards.

"If you'd like to keep your hand attached to your body, you will let go of her and leave." Alina's body tingled with excitement at the threat.

"I-"

The dung beetle was cut off as the man suddenly appeared in her view, gripping dung beetle by his jaw hard enough to strike fear in his heart and lifted him a few inches off the floor. The dung beetle's eyes went wide as he stared into the eyes of the man that still managed to tower above him.

"I will not issue another warning," the man said. Without so much as a last look at Alina, the dung beetle released her wrist and looked to the man expectantly.

"Do not make a habit of meeting me," was all he said before releasing his jaw and watching the dung beetle scurry off with his friends the second his feet touched the floor.

Though his back was to her, the man before her was quite the sight. He was tall and his dark hair seemed to cast starlight in its reflection. His aura radiated something strong, something powerful, and it was more intoxicating than any drug or drink. When he finally turned around, his blue eyes laid into hers though he said nothing.

"I hope you're not waiting on a thank you," she said at last. He tilted his head. His mask mirrored Alina's, showing only the bottom of his face and his eyes, though she could still read him. "I could have gotten out of that situation a dozen different ways."

"Really? Only a dozen?" He smirked. His tanned skin reminded her of burnt honey.

"You interrupted before I could divine more."

"I see," he mused. "I guess an apology is in order. I shall have to make up for my intrusion."

"Not sure it's possible, it was a grave offense."

"Perhaps, but maybe a night of revelry in good company shall help?"

"I was going to have that anyway," she said with a shrug.

"I assure you, you've never had company like me before," he said with a subtle bow. Staring into his eyes as he stepped closer, his hand outstretched and lips twisted into a wicked grin, Alina could not help but give into the danger.

"We shall see," she said taking his hand. "But I am quite hard to please. I do not recommend disappointing me."

"Is that a threat?" he asked, guiding her towards the center of the dance floor. Something in his voice made her think he hoped it was.

"I have been told I have great issues controlling my anger," she countered. "People tend to get hurt."

"Then it is a good thing I do not baulk," he said kissing the palm of her hand and leading her into the next dance.

The night blurred by in a way she wasn't expecting. It was spent laughing, dancing, drinking and crafting stories about other partygoers around the room. She had more fun than she could have expected at such an event, in such a Kingdom, with such a man. She felt renewed. Though as the night gave way to dawn, so was her resolve.

As she slipped out of the bed that was too big for any one man and slid on her heels, she took one last look at him as he slept. Peaceful and dark, in a sleep so deep it made her smirk as she recalled the night they spent tiring one another out. Squaring her shoulders, she ducked into the hallway and softly closed the door behind her.

She would not be distracted or swayed.

She would not get buried like the others.

She would not betray her mission.

It did not matter that she had just spent the night in her target's bed. It did not matter that she had slept with him. All that mattered was her mission.

Fore it may not be tonight, but she was going to kill him all the same. She was going to kill the Prince of Whestari.

[rkmoon]

Rob Month Day 1

Drawing Rob the frog on the Project Goddess zero draft I'm handwriting! I'm doing this with @mercuryytheraven and @goodluckclove .

He's gonna be my guardian frog as I attempt to wrangle this project into a working story uwu

[lilithsaintcrow]

Another Zero, Then Chores

Staggering out of a long, liminal weekend and arriving at coffee on Monday is somewhat pleasant, if only because the massive psychic pressure of lunging for the end of a zero draft has been temporarily abated. I say temporarily because a new one looms just around the corner, of course. The zero of the third (and final) Ymre book was slain last Thursday, and I promptly headed for pizza and an…

[lobsters-on-their-heads]

Back on my bullshit

Arcane's got me writing fanfic again, and wow but I love pauses, hesitations, and cut-off sentences.

[words-after-midnight]

Truly the trio of all time.

[skymeria]

A cosy spot for a ✨️murder✨️

First major character death in LunarWIP was written to the soundtrack of Speak Now (Taylor's Version) and fuelled by a butterscotch iced latte.

[superhoeva]

you nudge soap one night, and he turns to you with sleepy eyes.

“s’wrong, bonnie?”

you tell him it’s nothing. you just wanted to see if he wanted a midnight snack. the man is perking up before you can explain what you meant, smiling brightly and ripping the blanket off the both of you. ignoring your sputters, soap is in between your legs in record time, only having enough patience to pull the cotton to the side before dipping his tongue straight against your clit.

“fu-johnny, i meant food. actual food…” you trail off with a gasp, hurrying to grab at his hair, the suckle of his lips force a shiver through your legs.

“fuck yer food,” he smacks, spitting on your hole, and diving back in. “got the perfect meal right here…”

(gaz's version here!)

[shushmal]

Okay but a sci-fi/futuristic au where at the very tender age of 10 Dustin codes his first ai program (I know, triggering right now, bear with me) presumably to be just an online assistant type thing to keep his mom or his adoptive brother off his back, to text his friends back so they don’t think he died in the middle of a science experiment, and to play his music while he works. To play video games with him since his friends don’t want to as much anymore.

He names it Eddie, because it’s pretty buggy in the beginning and keeps playing this ancient metal band.

Anyways Dustin doesn’t really notice that Eddie’s kind of become a little more than your regular ai assistant when Steve scowls at him and says, “Hey, your computer is being a dick to me.”

When he looks, he realizes Eddie’s chat algorithm has evolved to include personality. So Dustin, being the responsible scientist he is, absolutely helps it evolve more. And swears Steve to secrecy. Steve luckily loves Dustin and doesn’t want him sent to jail.

By the time he’s packing for university, Eddie had cultivated his own developed voice, a sprite for himself to show up at inopportune times, and a near decade-long beef with his brother.

“Dustin! Your robot is being a bitch to me again!”

“Your music sucks Steve-o, that’s not bitching, that’s facts,” Eddie’s voice calls from a near by speaker, sounding deeply pleased with himself.

“He’s not a robot,” Dustin groans for what feels like the millionth time. Yet, he adds internally, however. He is going to school for biomechanics for a reason.

So, of course, being the responsible scientist, Dustin makes an illegal android.

And just to piss Steve off more, he makes Eddie taller than him.

And Eddie, who has become Dustin’s closest friend, is overwhelmed and over joyed. They spend months just hanging out, introducing Eddie to his friends. It’s great. Eddie is so much like a real person that Dustin kind of forgets he’s not.

So of course Eddie reminds him in the worst way.

A few weeks of avoidance and hijinks later finds Dustin in his spare bedroom, hands over his eyes, screeching "please tell me you did not fuck my brother?" followed very quickly by "please tell mE YOU DID NOT FUCK MY ILLEGAL ROBOT."

[potato-lord-but-not]

Potato Lord I am a big fan of your Picrew. I often have used it in the past to design the Muppets as if they were real human people. I wish Kermit could be a real person sometimes because I think he would have kind and soft eyes and he would hold me with his human muppet hands and tell me everything would be okay

got this back in March and never replied. but here we are because I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a celebrity. Godspeed. never send me things.

[waddingham]

—the mirror crack'd from side to side

[samglyph]

Arthur Lester manages to win dad of the year on a technicality.

[vile-br4t]

10 ways from Sunday you’ll wanna kill her

[marggri]

Ground dragons!

[lilithsaintcrow]

Highlands Zero

I finished the zero draft of The Highlands War on Friday just as I was called to dinner, which meant I showed up at the table late, covered with tear-tracks, and staring vacantly. The kids were worried until I managed to stammer, “… zero… done…”, at which point they were relieved and simply pressed more carbs upon their poor blinking mother. So. It’s done. That’s 175k words of… right. The book…