If the First Draft Were a Rehearsal

A chaotic rehearsal space. Various STORY ELEMENTS mill about nervously. The DIRECTOR stands centre, clipboard in hand.

Right! What have we got today? And remember people, we’re just MARKING this. Rough shapes only. We’ll polish in rewrites. What’s the scene?

The Transition Scene in Chapter Seven.

Oh god. Do we have to?

It’s in the outline.

Fine. Transition. A to B. Where’s the protagonist?

Absent.

ABSENT? He’s the viewpoint narrator!

Something about it not being worth his time.

The protagonist and I are going to have a chat. Okay, we need a volunteer to mark it. VOLUNTEERS? You there!

Me?

Yes, you. Get in here and mark the protagonist. What are you anyway?

An avocado.

…good enough. Stand there and transition to the other end of the scene. Yes, you can roll awkwardly. Character Development, do we have a companion yet?

Uh, no.

ANY VOLUNTEERS?

I’ll do it!

And what are you?

A philosophical question about the heat death of the universe.

…can you tone it down?

I’ll try.

Please do. Right. Worldbuilding?

Setting here.

Just you? Where’s the rest of your department?

On a recce. Researching Slavic brutalist architecture for the climax.

I see. Thanks for showing up. Outline says the Shadowstone Forest.

Best I can offer is a supermarket car park on a late Sunday afternoon.

That’ll do. Are you handling weather, too? We need a downpour.

How about a light drizzle?

Can you work with that, Sensory Details?

Oh yes. The smell of wet tarmac and the flutter of plastic bags in the breeze.

How about you, Tone?

Melancholy and general misery.

Nice. Motivation? You’re up.

Get to B. That’s all.

That’s not enough. Pacing?

Yes?

What happens in this scene?

Nothing.

WHAT? We can’t just have a miserable avocado crossing a car park with a philosophical question!

Wait!

Oh no. Not you, Flashback.

Please listen! I can fill the scene! Crucial context and a rich past!

We haven’t even established the present yet. Get out of my sight.

But I can add depth!

GET OUT! Right. Okay. Pacing, can we call Exposition? They always have something to say.

Can’t. Exposition just found out they’re being cut in rewrites. Complete breakdown. Shall I call Action instead? They’re next door with nunchucks.

Good idea. In the meantime, Dialogue? Give us something.

How’s this: Let’s head for B.

It’ll do. We’ll sketch that in one line for now and flesh it out in revision. Which character says that?

Does it matter? They both sound like you anyway.

MARK IT. Is Action here yet? Oh, Action! Great! This scene needs bite. Ideas?

Pigeons.

Pigeons?

That’s all I’ve got for a desolate car park and an avocado. Peck, peck, peck.

Excuse me, but I’m not ripe yet.

And pigeons are too dumb to notice. Mark it! Now, what about—

Wait! We need context for why they’re here!

Flashback! GET OUT!

But it’s the perfect time to cut away for six paragraphs about the protagonist’s childhood!

I’m an avocado.

FLASHBACK, I’M WARNING YOU—

No! I have to be in this scene!

Action? Could you please… thank you. Right everyone, FROM THE—

Ahem.

Theme?!? I didn’t see you there.

I’ve been here the whole time.

Brilliant. Any notes?

The scene is marked. You’ve done what you needed to.

But it’s a mess!

All first drafts are. Keep going.