I’ve been writing like a madwoman on my current work in progress, and today it finally paid off: The first draft is complete.
I’m giddy saying the words, like a kid buzzed on her first bottle of beer. The post-drafting euphoria has set in. It’s a short high.
Soon the second-draft horror will arrive. The moment when every line in the first draft is clearly some sort of trash masquerading as my hard work. That’s the only reasonable explanation for why my second-draft self will find it so terrible.
But that day isn’t today. Today, I’m high on first-draft euphoria. It feels damn good.