Draft 1: I vomited everything. Every thought. Every quote. Every tangent. It was 2,000 words of chaos. My roommate read it and said: “I don't know what you're arguing.” She was right. I didn't either.
Draft 2: I cut everything that wasn't about my main point. Lost 800 words. Found my argument hiding in the middle. It was buried under all the other words. I dug it out.
Draft 3: I added transitions. I connected the paragraphs. I stopped jumping from idea to idea. My friend said: “Now it flows.”
Draft 4: I read it out loud. I found sentences that went nowhere. Words I repeated. Paragraphs that should be two paragraphs. I fixed them.
Draft 5: I printed it. I read it on paper. I found three typos. I fixed them. I submitted.
I used to think good writers wrote good first drafts. Now I know: good writers revise. A lot.
Draft 2: I cut everything that wasn't about my main point. Lost 800 words. Found my argument hiding in the middle. It was buried under all the other words. I dug it out.
Draft 3: I added transitions. I connected the paragraphs. I stopped jumping from idea to idea. My friend said: “Now it flows.”
Draft 4: I read it out loud. I found sentences that went nowhere. Words I repeated. Paragraphs that should be two paragraphs. I fixed them.
Draft 5: I printed it. I read it on paper. I found three typos. I fixed them. I submitted.
I used to think good writers wrote good first drafts. Now I know: good writers revise. A lot.
