How the Pros Write First Drafts (and What You’re Getting Wrong)

A while back, I opened an old Google Doc titled “blog idea — draft.”

There were nine words on the page:

“What Weird Al Yankovic can teach us about blogging.”

That was it.

No outline. No paragraphs. Just vibes.

And it stayed that way for two months.

Not because I didn’t have ideas — I had too many. I didn’t want to ruin the clever version in my head by seeing how ugly it might be on the page.

The pros feel that too.

They just write anyway.

Let’s take a look at how.

🎬 ACT 1: How the Pros Actually Do It

1. Jerry Seinfeld: Write Like It’s a Factory Job

Jerry Seinfeld doesn’t edit while writing jokes.

He’s not looking for flow — he’s looking for output.

He treats writing like a production line. One task at a time.

No tinkering. No polishing. No second-guessing.

“The first draft is pure creativity. The second is craft.”
— Jerry Seinfeld (paraphrased)

That’s why he uses a notebook. No backspace. No red pen. Just pages that pile up.

Take it from Jerry:

Don’t critique the batter while mixing it. Just bake.

2. Anne Lamott: Lower the Bar on Purpose

Anne Lamott is the reason thousands of writers survived their first drafts.

Her advice? Let them be terrible. Spectacularly so.

“Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts.”
— Anne Lamott

The job of draft one isn’t to impress. It’s to exist.

It’s supposed to be raw, chaotic, and a little embarrassing.

That means you’re doing it right.

Take it from Anne:

Messy is momentum. Go make a glorious mess.

3. James Clear: Write Out of Order (On Purpose)

James Clear built an empire teaching us how to floss.

Turns out, he writes the same way — with tiny, intentional habits.

Instead of starting at the top, he opens Scrivener and jumps straight to the part he wants to write.

“I don’t start at the beginning. I start with the part I’m excited about.”
— James Clear

No pressure to craft the perfect intro. No pretending the conclusion doesn’t scare him.

He goes where the energy is.

Take it from James:

Order is optional. Momentum isn’t.

4. Brandon Sanderson: Placeholder Your Way to the End

Brandon Sanderson writes 400,000-word fantasy novels for sport.

His method?

He skips anything that slows him down. If he forgets a character’s name, he writes [guy with sword] and keeps going.

No polish. No detours. Just output.

He’s not chasing elegance. He’s chasing the finish line.

Take it from Brandon:

You can’t revise a draft that doesn’t exist. Keep typing.

5. Austin Kleon: Draft Like a Dentist (Sort Of)

Austin Kleon’s method sounds like a dental cleaning, but stick with it:

• Down Draft: Get it down. Fast and ugly.
• Up Draft: Clean it up. Add structure.
• Dental Draft: Polish and tighten. Fix that typo that’s been mocking you.

Each pass has a purpose. And you’re not allowed to combine them.

Take it from Austin:

The first draft is for you. The third draft is for the reader.

6. Tim Ferriss: Overwrite. Ramble. Repeat.

Tim Ferriss calls his early drafts “bloated and repetitive.”

He says it like a badge of honor.

“Most of my first drafts are overwritten, bloated, and repetitive. And that’s okay.”
— Tim Ferriss

He lets himself ramble on purpose — because underneath the fluff is the insight he’s actually trying to say.

Take it from Tim:

Don’t trim too early. Write long, then chisel.

7. Tiago Forte: Draft by Design, Not Discipline

Tiago Forte doesn’t wait for inspiration to strike.

He builds workflows that make writing automatic.
Ideas get captured. Notes get organized. Drafts emerge by design.

Writing isn’t a breakthrough. It’s a byproduct.

Take it from Tiago:

Skip the drama. Build a system that makes drafts inevitable.

🎬 Act 2: What We Get Wrong About First Drafts

We all say we want to write.

But what we really want… is to write something good immediately.

That’s the trap.

We stall out chasing clever.

We edit while we type.

We convince ourselves we’re “thinking” when we’re actually avoiding.

Perfectionism doesn’t always show up as fear.

Sometimes it shows up as a planner.

A researcher.

An outline that’s now on version 6.

Let’s look at the lies we tell ourselves — and what they cost us.

Belief #1: “My first draft defines me.”

If the writing is bad, it means I’m bad.

This one hits hard. Especially if you’ve been praised for being “a good writer.”

You start tying your worth to your sentences.

But real writers? They know the first version doesn’t mean anything yet.

Here’s a quick story.

Years ago, a client accidentally sent me their actual first draft instead of the final version. It was chaos. Sentences trailed off. There were brackets everywhere. Whole paragraphs were in all caps.

And it was oddly comforting.

Because it gave me permission to stop expecting greatness in draft one — and just write something.

Belief #2: “If I just plan better, I won’t get stuck.”

Outlining is smart. Until it becomes avoidance.

You can’t chart your way around resistance.

Writing is a discovery process.

And discovery is messy.

Sometimes, you just need to write your way into the idea — and figure out what you were really trying to say after it’s down.

Belief #3: “I’m stuck because I don’t have the right idea yet.”

Nope.

You’re stuck because you’re judging your idea while trying to write it.

You want the first take to be the one — and when it doesn’t land, you lose steam.

But clarity isn’t a prerequisite for writing.

It’s a result of writing.

Your brain figures things out through motion. Not hesitation.

🎬 Act 3: What to Avoid (and What to Do Instead)

Now that we’ve covered how the pros draft — and why your perfectionist brain can’t be trusted — let’s get tactical.

Because even with the right intentions, most writers still slip into the same bad habits. The kind that stall momentum and eat your afternoon.

Let’s fix that.

🕳 Trap #1: The Loop of Doom

“This sentence just needs a quick tweak…”

Famous last words.

Next thing you know, you’re rewriting a single paragraph 12 times — and none of them are better, just different.

Do this instead:

Set a timer for 10 minutes. No deleting. No rewording. Just forward motion.

Think of it as a first draft sprint. Ugly is fine. Backward is not.

🕳 Trap #2: The Perfect Paragraph Fantasy

“This part has to be great or the rest won’t work.”

Not true. That’s just your inner critic cosplaying as a standards committee.

Do this instead:

Write “[something decent goes here]” and keep typing.

You don’t owe your first draft excellence. You owe it progress.

🕳 Trap #3: The Overthink Avalanche

“This topic’s already been covered. What could I possibly add?”

And just like that, you’re 45 seconds into a spiral about whether you have anything worth saying ever again.

Do this instead:

Write like no one will ever read it.

Get it out. Then revise it into something they’ll want to.

🕳 Trap #4: The Clean Draft Lie

“If I write this well enough, I won’t need to revise.”

Cool theory. Never works.

Trying to make a first draft perfect is like ironing clothes while they’re still in the washing machine.

Do this instead:

Write the version you’d be embarrassed to share. Then pull something brilliant out of the rubble.

Real example:

One of my most-read posts started with a sarcastic, clunky sentence I almost deleted.

But I kept it — because while it wasn’t elegant, it was honest.
And that’s what people connected with.

🧰 This Week’s Stack Tool

When you’re finally ready to make that messy draft less… alarming, paste it into the Hemingway Editor.

It’ll flag your passive voice, call out your run-ons, and judge your adverbs like a high school English teacher with tenure.

It doesn’t care about your feelings — just your clarity.

And honestly? That’s what your second draft needs most.

🤖 Prompts to Help You Finish Your First Draft

Stuck halfway through a draft you secretly hate?

Good. That means you’re doing it right.

Here are three ChatGPT prompts to help you keep moving — without falling into the “rewrite spiral” that kills momentum:

🧠 Prompt 1: The Unblocker

Act as a writing coach. I’m stuck in the middle of a [type of writing — blog post, chapter, article] and overthinking every sentence. Ask me 3 quick questions that’ll help me clarify what I’m trying to say. Then give me a 3-point bullet outline that helps me write my way out.

✂️ Prompt 2: The Crutch-Free Rebuilder

Analyze the section below and tell me: where am I using filler words, throat-clearing phrases, or trying to sound smarter than I am? Help me rewrite it to sound human — not robotic or overwritten.

🧹 Prompt 3: The Ugly Draft Optimizer

Assume I have an ugly, rough first draft that’s too long and too rambly. Don’t rewrite it — but give me a short checklist to help me self-edit the draft. Keep it focused on structure, clarity, and flow. Bonus points if it helps me avoid my usual perfectionism traps.

Use one. Use all three.

Just don’t let your rough draft become a graveyard.

📚 Still Struggling With First Drafts? This Might Be the Missing Piece.

If you’ve found this helpful, you’ll love this companion article I wrote.

It unpacks what I call The DRAFT System — a repeatable process I use for writing blog posts, newsletters, tweets, and more.

You’ll see how to go from idea → ugly draft → something worth publishing… without the usual detours through perfectionism, procrastination, or whatever your personal flavor of “I’ll do it later” looks like.

Check it out by clicking the link below:

👉 The Best First Draft You’ll Ever Write Will Still Be Bad

📣 Last Word

Here’s how Brandon Sanderson described first drafts:

“Sometimes you have to let yourself write crap. You can always fix it later.”

That’s the difference between pros and amateurs.

The pros don’t avoid the mess — they schedule it.

Until next time…