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Hello friend, 👋🏾
I got a message this past week from a podcast listener asking:
“Would you ever consider comparing or sharing a first draft chapter versus a final draft/published chapter?”
I’ve actually considered this many times. Ideas, they pour from my brain like water and get captured in lists and in notebooks and in Notion databases for posterity and then… Well, the physics of time often gets in the way. Along with the mysteries of motivation, but what better motivator than someone actually asking for something? :)
So here you go! I chose a scene from early in The Monsters We Defy, my 1925 fantasy heist novel which takes place in Washington, DC.
Clara Johnson, my heroine, is a twenty-three year old clairvoyant woman who can communicate with spirits, including powerful entities called Enigmas. Prior to this chapter, many strange things have been happening around her, letting her know that one of the spirits would like a word with her—but she’s been avoiding it. Now, she can avoid it no longer.
For those who have read the novel, you’ll notice that in this first draft, Clara has a different job. This character is based on a real person, and there is some evidence that the real Clara worked as a janitor at a building in downtown DC. My first fictionalized version moved her job to Howard University, to give her access to resources she could use to research the story’s mysteries. However, in the next draft, I changed her job completely for reasons that I hope are evident to readers.
I follow the fast drafting philosophy of writing as fast as I can without stopping to make too many decisions or edit. I want to be in the flow state to get all of the ideas out. So you’ll see in here at least one note to myself, written mid-thought, and several places where I put in placeholders for things I didn’t know.
I’ve also cleaned up the typos in this version, but if you want the true, raw experience, here’s the original file (PDF), straight from my Freewrite Traveler, on which I write all my first draft these days.
Original First, Fast Draft
Even though she knew what she had to do, she was still putting it off. She had no desire to contact the Enigma which held her debt, but she needed answers. She wandered around for the rest of the afternoon, walking the streets and taking in the sights. She got an ice cream at the shop. Stopped into the drug store for some candy for Zelda and even contemplated buying a ticket for the picture show at the THEATER. But ultimately she just kept walking.
Outside the CLUB a poster advertised the Israel lee band. Folks were already queuing up to buy tickets it promised to be a sold out affair. She stared at the photograph of the handsome drummer who she’d heard so much about. Maybe she should buy a ticket and see him. This was her night off after all.
She made the split second decision NO THIS CAN’T HAPPEN BECAUSE WHEN SHE DOES GO SHE HAS PROBLEMS GETTING IN.
She eventually wandered her way to work and clocked in, then changed her clothes in the locker room and retrieved her cart of cleaning supplies.
She was working in Founder’s Library tonight. She enjoyed being around all the books and dusty tomes. Dusting them wasn’t part of her duties, neither was reading them but she couldn’t resist. She’d long loved books having not grown up with them before moving to the district.
She ran her fingers across the bound volumes taking in the scent of old paper. Then she turned to her broom and dust mop and got down to the floors.
Walking home that night the moon was bright overhead. A heaviness clung to her. She reached her apartment and entered quietly so as not to disturb Zelda. She was sprawled across the couch, a blanket covering her head and soft snores coming from her.
Clara removed her shoes set down her purse and went to the altar closet. it was time to stop putting this off.
She lit a single candle – a black one with a red base.
When she’d made the deal she hadn’t had access to her normal methods, it had been rudimentary materials and she wasn’t sure if the candles made a difference at all but this was the one she always avoided using.
She focused her mind’s eye clearly on The Empress, the Enigma who was connected to her in more ways than one.
Soon the flickering flame turned a ghostly white and a face peered through.
“Clara Johnson. You finally deign to contact me.”
Clara swallowed the retort she wanted to give and pressed her lips together breathing slowly to give her patience.
“You have wanted me for something?”
“yes.” The flame grew higher until the face was more defined. A high forehead deep set eyes. “I have need of you. There is someone in your community who has something she should not. I would like for you to get it back for me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Are you familiar with a woman named Madame Josephine?”
Clara swallowed. “Yes, I know of her. She was the former actress on vaudeville and early pictures. She married a white man and when he died she was rich. She started buying up half of U Street then.”
“yes, she is a crafty and wealthy woman for certain. But an item has come into her possession that she has no need for. I want you to take it from her.”
“Take it?”
“yes. It must be retrieved at all costs. It is very valuable.”
“What is it?”
“A ring. She wears it upon her finger at all times so it is not an easy task I ask of you. But I am willing to make you a new deal if you take it on.”
“So you want me to steal a ring off the finger of the richest and most powerful woman in Washington?” Clara chuckled softly. “She goes everywhere with guards and has a chauffeur that takes her around. Do you think she’d invite a janitor into her inner circle and allow her to steal something off her finger? You’re insane mad.”
“I assure you, I am very sane. And I know that you are an resourceful girl. You have many things at your disposal. Did I not give you a great gift when you asked it of me?”
Clara trembled at the reminder. “I will never use that gift again. And I’m no thief. What you’re asking is suicide. It’s madness and I want no part of it. madame Josephine is untouchable even if I were a professional thief and knew how to do what you asked I won’t.”
The Empress sighed. “What do you know of our world, child?”
The other side? Only what the spirits tell me.”
“But you are aware there are factions, much like in the human world. There are battles for control, wars, alliances, betrayals. We function much as you do. That ring is no mere bauble. It has a power inherent in it–one that could turn the tide of the fighting here in my favor. And I need that ring.”
Clara frowned. How could a spirit use a ring? It wasn’t possible. They didn’t have access to the physical world, couldn’t come through the flame and touch things unless under certain circumstances.
It was possible to conjure one into existence and into a physical body, but only if that body was embraced. And to be embraced you had to allow it.
Miss Octavia had always warned Clara about the dangers of allowing an Enigma to possess your body. You may as well throw your free will away.
“Battles in the spirit world have been going on since the beginning of time,” Clara said. “It doesn’t affect humans.”
The Empress scoffed. “That’s what you think. I want that ring and you are the one who will get it for me.”
The entity was growing larger, becoming angry. Clara had dealt with angry Enigmas before and it wasn’t pretty.
“Get someone else to do it,” she said and sucked in a deep breath before blowing out the candle.
The flame took a long time to die, but the connection was severed. The smoke that rose in the wake of the Empress’s flame was thick and cloying. Clara knew it would not dissipate any time soon.
There would be consequences for what she’d just done– denied an Enigma and then banished her before their meeting was over, but she would deal with that when the time came.
For now she thought about the spirit’s request and shuddered. Nothing good could come of it.
Final Draft - scene from Ch. 5 “The Empress Requests”
Clara’s unease grew over the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. She couldn’t concentrate on her typing and made so many mistakes she’d had to start the whole article over. At the grocer’s after work, she strolled down the milk aisle and the bottles began to rattle on the shelves. She stepped away quickly, peering around to make sure no one else had seen, when the thick glass of one bottle cracked before her eyes. White liquid streamed out, frothing and bubbling like it was being boiled. She spun on her heel and left, leaving her basket on the floor.
On the walk home, streetlights flickered on and off as she passed. They were all electric—no fire to smoke and dance—but they were giving her a warning all the same. When the bulb of one light burst with a pop, scattering sparks inside the glass case, she jumped, then raced all the way back to her apartment.
Ruth Anne was outside the beauty shop next door, chatting with a client. Clara hurried up her steps and nodded distractedly at the women.
“Clara Johnson, when you gonna let me tame those naps?”
The beautician’s hair was smoothed into a fashionable short bob, the curled ends reaching her earlobes. Her lithe figure was well displayed in a short-sleeved, asymmetrical day dress with the hemline barely covering her knees.
Clara looked around nervously, not wanting whatever was happening to spill over and harm these women in any way. “I’d just sweat it out,” she said with a shrug. Her hair was pressed and pulled back into a simple bun as usual.
“You barely have enough girls in there for the clients you got, Ruth Anne,” her client said, turning away. “What you trying to drum up more business for?”
Clara paused, her key in the door. “You lost some of your hairdressers?”
Ruth Anne heaved a sigh. “Hazel and Virginia didn’t show up today. I just about worked my fingers to the bone trying to fit their customers in on top of mine. Not sure what the world is coming to, folks not showing up without so much as a by-your-leave.” She threw up her hands in disgust and turned back to her shop.
Clara pushed open her front door and ran up the steps to her apartment. Zelda wasn’t there, thank goodness. She didn’t want to answer any questions. She changed out of her work clothes, careful of every button and zip. Anything could be turned against her at this point and a powerful spirit wanting to grab her attention could get very creative.
Since her grocery run had been thwarted, she cautiously scraped together a baloney sandwich and drank a glass of water all while staring at the closed closet door.
Mama Octavia hadn’t returned with any answers, but if Clara didn’t want the entire neighborhood to come crumbling down at her feet, she needed to address this situation. Someone obviously wanted a word with her, and she had a good idea who it was.
Girding herself, she entered the tiny closet, sat on her stool, and lit a single candle—a long red-and-black taper. Almost immediately the flame turned a spectral white and an indistinct face peered through.
“Clara. You try my patience.”
She swallowed the retort she wanted to give, pressing her lips together and breathing slowly. “I take it you wanted to contact me.”
The flame rose higher and the face grew more defined. A regal forehead and deep-set eyes. Cheekbones sharp enough to wound. This Enigma called herself The Empress, and she and Clara had history.
“You could have come last night.” Clara kept her tone light as she was more than familiar with this spirit’s temper.
“I could not speak freely in front of those people.”
“Do you know what’s wrong with that boy? What caused it?”
“I do. And you can help him…by helping me.”
She was welded to the stool, an icy sickness spreading through her. A bargain was something she needed to avoid. The Empress continued, “Someone near you has acquired an item she has no business with. I need you to get it back for me.”
“What is it?”
“A ring.”
Clara frowned. How could a spirit use a ring? It wasn’t possible. Under certain circumstances an Enigma could interact with the human world in a physical way, but Clara wasn’t interested in creating any of those circumstances. “I don’t understand.”
“Are you familiar with a woman calling herself Madame Josephine Lawrence?”
“The opera singer. Of course. She owns half of U Street.” Madame Josephine was a local celebrity from one of the hundred families that made up the best of Colored Washington. After the Great War ended, she’d performed around the world and when she returned to the District had surprised everyone by marrying a notorious gangster, Bowlegged Mo. The two of them began buying up property and businesses. She was a woman completely out of Clara’s orbit.
“Madame Josephine has this ring you want?”
“Indeed. And you must take it from her. She wears it at all times, so this is no easy task. But your reward will be great. I will make a new deal with you, even better than our last one.” The smoky visage smiled, causing spiderwebs of dread to lace themselves across Clara’s skin.
“Even if I wanted to do this, how would I get it to you? And how would you use it?”
The Empress grew testy. “Do you think yours are the only hands I have at my disposal in the human world?”
The spirit’s evasion of the question caused waves of unease to fill Clara’s belly. “And what does this have to do with Titus Monroe?”
The Empress’s ghostly lips pursed. “The ring caused his condition.”
Clara blinked. That malignant energy she’d seen surrounding the boy was magically made, and if this ring caused it, that was even more reason to stay away. “Are you saying that Madame Josephine attacked that boy?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“The ring caused his condition,” The Empress snapped. “And the ring can reverse it. Do what I ask. We will strike a new deal.”
Clara chuckled humorlessly. “What you’re asking is madness. Madame Josephine is untouchable and powerful, with an even more powerful and dangerous husband. Even if I were a professional thief with money and resources and knew how to do what you asked, I wouldn’t.”
“Not for the sake of that child? The boy whom the ring has saddled with a spiritual affliction?”
Clara clenched her jaw. “It’s not just him, is it? How are the spirits involved?”
The Enigma narrowed her eyes. “Just as there are wars between humans, we have wars here too. However, instead of a few mere years, ours can last eternities. There are battles for control, alliances and betrayals. We function much as you do in that regard. None of us are pure good or pure evil.”
“You have free will,” Clara murmured. “Just like us.”
The Empress smiled. “Yes. And I am trying to right a wrong and save my people from tyranny…and free yours as well. Our conflicts can spill over into your world. Humans will suffer greatly if the ring stays in its present hands. I need it.” The face in the flame swelled, the candle’s fire expanding and lighting the wicks of all the other candles around it on the altar. Clara shrank back from the heat and the power, but could not give in.
“You’ll have to get someone else to do it. I don’t want a new deal with you, and I can’t risk sacrificing myself.” She stood quickly, toppling over the stool in her haste as the unified flame grew.
“I have much to offer you, Clara. Do not turn away from this.”
Clara shook her head and backed away. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
She picked up a mason jar filled with sand from the corner and dumped it over the candles, snuffing out the flames. Her hands shook as the smoke filled the room.
The Empress’s face took a long time to fade.
If you’ve made it this far, you can see how the ideas from the first draft were developed and fleshed out by the final draft. I needed to have Clara interact with people to both build her character and relationships, show how these change later in the novel, and to better establish her motivation.
She’s been sensing that something isn’t right, and this is part of what pushes her to bite the bullet and do something she really doesn’t want to do by contacting the Empress.
The first draft is just me telling myself the story. It has the base elements needed for construction: wood and nails and such, but there’s no drywall or tile. It’s not a house, it’s just the skeleton of one.
I’d love to know your thoughts on the changes and overall writing progress. And if you have questions or feedback, hit me up in the comments!
Thanks for reading! You can also:
Love the transformation. It's definitely more fleshed out and solidified!