Novel First Draft Example Novels & Stories

How can real people vanish? I read through the dream sequence in one of the journals on my laptop. Two hours for the boarding call, and one hour in the air was good enough to find at least the exposition. Dream sequences in the first chapter of a book are pieces of trash. Every third book starts with a dream sequence! Definite turn-offs for literary agents and editors. No, I am not judging. That’s what the agents and publishing house editors say in their How-to-write-a-great-novel videos. That’s what they warn aspiring authors against – NO DREAM SEQUENCES PLEASE! Not at least in the first chapter! And that’s where my dilemma was! No matter how much my dream sequence was real, how often I got

“Cooking up something?” “Jay,” I said quickly, “why are you here?” “Oh,” he said suddenly. “I almost forgot.” But instead of answering, he continued reading my manuscript. “Hey!” I quickly snatched the papers from his hands. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. That manuscript was different from my usual books. It was my first attempt at writing an erotic novel. And judging by the amused look on his face… he definitely read part of it. “Wild goose,” he muttered with a grin.

hi. I should have spent this time writing for the Iron Alpha or The Alpha That Couldn't Remember, but I wasn't in the mood. So instead I wrote a long chapter for the new story. this isn't permanent, before I can get a contract things might change. Sometimes goodnovel wants to hear from the male pov first or they want me to edit some things out. So you get to read the first draft for free. I already made the book cover and you can find the story on the desktop version until it's actually signed.

Starting this book wasn't part of the plan. That day, my goal was to scroll through P*******t to find a cover for "GOOD SIN" since I wasn't able to afford a designer. But then, I saw a rainbow poem. And it was just... too emotional. I've always been neutral but the idea just came that day. I wasn't a big fan of MM or BL books and I knew it won't hurt to do something new so I started my first draft. The final kick in the ass was Goodnovel's contest. I applied and I wasn't really surprised when it passed the review because I worked for this.

“But you’re turning it into something beautiful, honey. That takes courage.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Thanks, Mom.” “Always.” --- The First Breakthrough By November, I had a draft. It was messy. Incomplete. Some chapters were barely there, just skeletons of scenes I hadn’t figured out yet. But it was something. A beginning, a middle, an end. A story that started with heartbreak and ended with hope. I printed the whole thing—all two hundred pages—and spread them across my bed. “Wow,” Chloe said, peering over my shoulder. “That’s a lot of words.”

she said. Then she went back inside. I sat in my car for ten minutes staring at the street. Then I drove home, sat at the kitchen table with a legal pad, and started writing. The first draft took forty minutes and was completely wrong. It had too much explanation. Every paragraph trying to get ahead of her reaction, building a case instead of telling a story. I read it back and heard a lawyer, not a husband so I tore it out. The second was worse. Defensive in a way that made me sound like I was still hiding something even while claiming to confess everything.

She asked and remarked, making me giggle. "No, I'm still in the middle. Well, I guess. I don't actually know how long this will go. I just realized I'm a damn pantser, Mom. The plot keeps changing. I didn't even follow the rough draft I wrote two weeks ago." I answered and felt her resting a hand on my right shoulder while peeking on the half-empty page I was working on. It's my first book, and I want to be near perfect.

The first draft of the book was finished six weeks later. She printed it — all of it, three hundred and twelve pages — and set it on the library table and looked at it for a long time. It was the longest thing she had written. The most complicated. The one that had required her to be inside the story and outside it simultaneously, which was the hardest balance she knew. She called Julian. He came to the library and looked at the stack of pages. "Done?" he said. "First draft," she said. "Which means it's terrible in specific ways I can now identify and fix."

I got clarity in so many things and it helped me keeping my sanity in this golden cage. I had to admit, I even drafted a first copy of a novel, which I would love to proofread and publish it in future if I'm allowed to. I thought my story had a good emotional quotient and that would gave me a way for my writing career that I never thought I would be taking up. I was here, in this unknown country, in the huge mansion, completely alone and I hated my presence here. I missed my home, my country and I was dying to get back to there.

All that was missing was the leading man. The first three chapters of Guilty Pleasures were due on Peter’s desk in four short days, and she was nowhere near completing even the first three sentences. It had taken Rachel over a year to write her first novel and now she was under contract to produce another one in less than half that time. Peter was going to expect it to be as good, if not better, than her first, but after three days of writing, her efforts had produced thirty pages of mediocre manuscript, which were now lying in a crumpled heap under her desk. With all the distractions of her stroll through the memory bed with Mark yesterday, and the whirlwind publicity ride she had been on a