‘Saved as draft’ — the writer’s cemetery of words

Day 7/90 — How do you know when something is ready to be published?

I write a lot of stuff. I also publish a lot of stuff, so most people are surprised when I mention that I actually write more than double the amount of words they ever see published. A bunch of stories, articles, and poems are in my personal cemetery of lost words — also know as saved as draft.

In my case, more often than not, what once is saved as draft is forever forgotten. Only every few weeks, when I’m really at a loss for inspiration, will I scroll through my drafts in the hopes of finding one to pimp up and make publishable.

Most of my drafts never see the light of day. Somehow it’s much easier for me to start completely new, on a blank page with novel thoughts and tickling fingers, than trying to improve something I’ve already invested words in.

Why?

What is that feeling inside my belly that decides if something will be published or remain unseen? Where does it come from? How does it decide?

I tried to analyze this.

Between having a great idea and bringing it to paper lies the whole word.

(Yes, you may quote me on this if I ever make it to fame.) Sometimes I have great ideas, that in my head, create perfect material for writing. More often than I’d like to admit, I’m not capable of transcribing what’s beautifully clear in my mind to writing. My drafts are filled with great ideas that I’m incapable of recreating with written words in a way that would serve them right.

Some things are only brilliant if left unsaid.

Rarely, yet it happens, that I stumble upon a thought that is so brilliant that while trying to write it down, I realize it loses most of its magic. I believe this is me still needing to develop as a writer — still in search of the magic spell that conveys meaning so beautifully, the written word is better than the unsaid.

The process of publishing vs the process of saving as draft

Most of the articles I have saved as draft are still missing some parts. It usually hits me during the process of writing that I don’t feel comfortable with a piece. So after a few moments of trying to figure it out, I usually let it rest in its unfinished state.

With poems my approach is completely opposite. Even when I realize I don’t like the poem I’m trying to create (yet) I always finish. Then, once it feels finished, I hover over the publish button and decide purely based on my gut feeling if the piece will see the light of day or join all the other pieces in my cemetery of words.

After examining my gut-feeling decisions a few times, I think at the core of them lie the questions: Is this too personal? Will people get it? (Will people get me?)

I’d rather not publish anything, that publish something without soul.

Even when I write for clients about dry topics, there has to be an element of personality — of soul — to each paragraph. Only then will I publish it, only then do I want to get payed. Is this artistic arrogance? Maybe. Yet, it’s this personal quality control that constantly makes me strive for more as a writer.

To put it metaphorically, most of the words found in my draft mode, to me, feel like children that have been dropped on the wrong doorstep. I try to give them a meaningful life, but it is not me that should raise them. Some stories are someone else’s to tell. Some stories we must grow into.

How do your drafts look like? Do you have many or just a few? Let me know.

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This is day 7of 90 days that I will be sharing something I’ve learned here in this publication. Don’t miss it.