Wanna See Me Naked?

One of the things I've always been self-conscious about is the first draft.

Let me first just get this out there. I can be in a shit writer. I can be a pretty decent writer, but I can also be a really, really shitty writer.

I'll type sentences like "What is this, booby trap central?" or "the man's eyes widened in anger," or my personal favorite, all the times I mention Arlene's stomach "somewhere near her ankles" in a anxious moment (it's in the double digits for a 150 page novel).

This being said, I often have a really tough time dealing with people who want to "read my stuff" (especially my completed first draft of my current novel). Most of the time this "stuff" is all first draft material. Like I've said before, I've never actually crafted a piece to where I think it is complete, so historically I've abandon pieces for better, more exciting plots.

In terms of my current novel, one of the most common questions I get (because it is a completed draft) is "can I read it?" For me, this question is eerily similar to asking "can I see you naked?"

It takes a lot of trust to show someone a first draft, because as Ann Lamott so gracefully puts it, "the first draft is a child's draft, where you let it all pour out and them let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see it and that you can shape it later."

The first draft is, in all honesty, never meant to be shown. Hemingway thought less of himself every time he mentioned a novel in-process, let alone read from it. He knew that first drafts don't reflect the craft, they reflect the faults of the writer (which we all, in our God-like fashion, edit out).

Asking to see a first draft is asking for premature trust. It's like saying, "hey, I've seen you've spent the past month eating Ho-Ho's, Ding Dongs and Pringles, but how about you just slip off that top and we'll see what's underneath."

By no means am I trying to say that when someone asks me to see a draft they are asking me to get naked. As my roommate remarked earlier, "I feel like it is hard to please you. Wouldn't it seem like they are showing interest? I want to know more about you, so I'm asking about something you're passionate about."

To this I would reply yes, and I'm not saying that I suddenly want everyone to stop asking about my novel (it makes me feel better when you do), just, don't expect me to show it to you. Because without fully understanding the craft, you're always at a disadvantage. To you it seems like a kind statement about your interest in my life, but to me, if you actually want to read it, is asking too much too soon. When we are asked to prove our passions, we ultimately lay it all out on the line. We get naked.

And as a life lesson I tend to avoid asking people to get prematurely naked. Because, like seeing a first draft, I'm often not prepared for that kind of awkward.