Sophomore Slumps
On working on the "next" book (and praying for a comeback of the year).
I first wrote the book that got me my agent when I was around sixteen years old. I worked on it on and off for years, but I didn't pick it up “seriously” again until 2021/2022, when I decided to revise it, send it out for beta-reading, and finally head for the query trenches. All in all, I’d say it took me seven to ten years to get to where I am with it. At this point, I can’t even remember anymore.
All this is to say that I thought working on my next book would be exciting. And for the most part, it has been. Since that first book, I came up with two ideas—manilawip and funnywip, respectively. I came up with manilawip first, and admittedly, at the time I started working on it, I was writing with the hope of cleansing the old world of my first baby out of my system. It was to incorporate something new in me. I ended up writing 60k words, but have yet to finish the entire thing. Nearly a year later, the idea of funnywip came to me, and I was positive that this was it. This was My Next One. As I am writing this, funnywip is stuck at 68k. Much better progress than manilawip, considering that I’m still fighting through this first draft, but I don’t know, it’s like every time I’m making clear progress, something invisible is inevitably there to suddenly hold me back.
So, what’s the problem?
There is one thing these two projects have in common: some days, it still feels like I’m working with strangers. It’s an odd thing to say, I know, but hear me out. As I mentioned above, I worked on my first book for such a long time, I feel like you could ask me what the main characters’ coffee orders would be if they were to walk into the cafe I’m at right now, and I’d know their orders without having to give it much thought. Admittedly, this is where funnywip has an advantage over manilawip. I think I’ve gotten to know the characters of funnywip much better. I’d say we’re friends. Not best friends, but not acquaintances. We’re friends. I feel that’s a safe enough stage to see this first draft all the way.
But the point stands — why am I hitting slumps this deep into the draft?
The answer is actually quite petty. And I kind of hate saying it out loud because of how petty it sounds: I’m afraid of writing the end because what if it isn’t as good as how I pictured it in my head. In other words, I am my own worst enemy. I’ve discussed this with my writing group, and most of them agree with two points. First, I need to lock in because they have threatened me with violence, and second, I’m probably right that the ending won’t be as good as it is in my head, but that’s 1000000% okay. Because this is a first draft. It’s an old cliché, but a first draft’s only job really is to just be. To exist. To be there as a point of reference as you rework every word you’ve written down into a more presentable, prettier draft.
First drafts get such a bad rep for being crappy, but really, as writers, they’re our first insight into our stories. They’re case studies showcasing a project’s potential and weak points. They’re our first friends.
You get the point.
So yeah, that’s where I am right now with my sophomore slump. Always somewhere in between embracing the chaos of the process and getting frustrated about the most minor inconveniences. I am going on a writers’ retreat with some good friends soon, though, so I might just be able to work out the kinks of these books even better with insight from people outside myself.
Anyway, I hope you are all well. May the words come easier to all of us, and may we all extend our first drafts some kindness. God knows how much they all need it, too.