Every first draft I've ever written is a search party. It goes out into the fog, makes noise, and comes back with something — rarely the thing I sent it for.
The second draft is a promise
It says: I will not make the reader do my thinking for me. Every sentence that survives has to earn its place twice.
Cutting is the craft
I keep a graveyard file. Everything cut goes there, and almost nothing ever comes back out. That's how I know the cuts were right.
First drafts are for finding out what you think. Second drafts are for saying it once, and then stopping.
A small ritual
Read the draft aloud, once, before anyone else sees it. The ear catches what the eye forgives.
