The Curious Draft

Cardinal air: curiosity, meandering, surprises.

What happens when you use curiosity as a guiding principle for a writing project instead of productivity, deadlines, or word counts?

This was the question I asked myself, and tested out with a difficult writing project of my own. At first I was worried: what would happen without all the self-imposed rules? But something magical happened. I began to write more fluently than before.

Over the last year, I have also shared my practice of the curious draft with other writers, and I have been delighted to see how well it works for them too.

Perhaps you work in this way already, or perhaps you have your own approach.

This idea of the curious draft is connected to the discovery draft – a way to find out about the work through the writing. Curiosity allows you to go back to the waters of your original idea, and to refill your cup, even when you wander away from your purpose and vision.

The curious draft asks you to get your ideas down, because a messy draft is better than no draft. You may already work with some kind of outline (I have something called a book pattern which is more like a chart of major constellations than a spreadsheet with every detail), or you may not. Even if you have a map or chart, you will certainly find yourself shifting the order around, or writing the scenes that really light you up first.

The curious draft encourages you to take time away from it, to absorb its lessons, to nourish yourself with reading and learning, to have conversations, and to bring all of this back to the draft.

Can you imagine working in this way? Is there anything preventing you from working on the most fun parts first? Are those fears and anxieties coming from you or from messaging you have received from elsewhere?

It can be scary to let go, but with a curious draft, you can keep in touch with the writing even when you have to spend time away from it for any reason. The work exists because of you and your unique understanding of the world you are creating, so how could it ever disappear?