What does it mean to write a vomit draft? And is there value in doing one?
A vomit draft is when you “vomit out” a first complete pass at a script or manuscript in a “pushing through without stopping” kind of way.
The idea is to outsmart or bypass the critical mind — or what The War of Art calls “resistance.” You know, that part of you that’s sure nothing you write will ever be any good? We all have it. Especially if we’ve had the experience of having our work critiqued harshly by professionals, and come to realize it’s harder to succeed at writing than it might first appear.
When you write a vomit draft, you’re plowing full speed ahead, despite not always knowing exactly where you’re going, and without stopping to consider whether it’s all any good or not.
If we can just get a complete draft down, we reason, then we’ll have something to edit. Since “writing is rewriting,” most of the good stuff comes out in that later process. And it’s emotionally easier to revise what we have, than to fill a blank page for the first time. Right?
Anne Lamott talks about this in her book Bird by Bird. There’s a famous passage in there about terrible first drafts (she uses a more graphic word that “terrible”) and how we should embrace them.
Another benefit of the vomit draft is that sometimes inspired writing comes through when you’re not overly planning or analyzing. When you’re instead letting the creative mind run wild and free.
I know it seems like I’m setting you up for a major “but” here, where I’m going to come out against the vomit draft and declare all the above reasoning to be flawed.
Well I don’t want to be too predictable, so I’m not going to do that.
And actually I don’t think any of that reasoning is flawed.
However…
In my experience it’s not quite as simple as all that. Unfortunately.
What has sometimes happened with me when I write a vomit draft is that I end up with a script that’s so overly long and unreadable that it’s a major chore to go back to it and try to find something, anything worth preserving and building from.
Also, it’s not so easy to convince the mind that it’s all happy and good and to tap into the best possible ideas when writing such a draft, which is part of the hope. I know when good ideas are flowing, and then, it’s all a joy, whether I’m in vomit draft mode or not. I also know when they’re not. And if I’m filling scenes with stuff I know isn’t working, it doesn’t necessarily lead to a worthwhile pass at the script.
At the same time, I get the appeal of a vomit draft, as opposed to having a first draft come out so slowly and so painfully as I question every scene, every word, and painstakingly try to craft it as I go. With each day something of a nightmare as I face the void of not knowing what’s next and not feeling that freedom of “just writing.”
I’ll tell you what works best for me. With the caveat that no one writing approach seems to work every time, the same way. Every project seems to be a new experience of struggling in the dark, to some extent.
But what has lately allowed me to produce a couple scripts a year that I think are ready to show others is this:
I spend a lot of time on the basic idea, first. You’d expect that, given that it’s the advice I constantly give others and focus on in my book THE IDEA: The Seven Elements of a Viable Story for Screen, Stage, or Fiction. And I take my time with arriving at a basic structure, and even a scene-by-scene outline, usually, before I move into writing the actual script.
But the thing about an outline is that things can change when I start writing scenes. Often better ideas come. Or it doesn’t work like I thought it would when I outlined. The outline felt solid-ish when I finished it, but to actually write scenes from it, I need to know a lot more information than what’s in there, somehow. And how do I arrive at that knowing? By stopping the forward momentum for a beat, and by relaxing and playfully asking questions and opening to answers. Definitely not by getting down on myself or what I have so far. (Tempting as that is.)
And so I stop the presses for a beat. Or I don’t even start writing a scene until I have some certainty about it, beyond what’s typically in a scene-by-scene outline.
This is why a more expanded outline, sometimes called a “scriptment,” can be good. But it might not be an official document. It might just be that I go back to the outline as I get ready to write each scene and do another deeper, more specific brainstorming on what should happen in that scene, expanding it until it gets to the point where I know the way into the scene and can jump in with confidence and direction. And POSITIVITY. Which is really the key.
Once I’m writing the scene, and characters start talking and behaving, it can still start to feel like it needs to go a bit differently than what I’ve outlined, or even “scriptmented.” And I let it do that. Sometimes it’s just flowing out of me with ease as I write, like a man possessed. You might call this a “vomit scene.” Though that phrase makes it sound uglier and less pleasant than it is. Actually it’s the best feeling. Because it’s INSPIRED. It’s not forced.
Whether you write a vomit draft or not, I think the key is having the attitude where it’s an easy flow, where you’re letting it lead you, to some extent, and where you’re also not just hating what’s coming out and pushing forward out of a sense of duty or harsh discipline. What you force will tend to not be so good. Whether you can later read it and not hate it too much, and make something good out of it, is really the question.
It goes better for me when I feel decent about it as it’s going, even though there’s some freedom along the way, and openness to where it takes me. And this requires some pre-planning. Even a lot of pre-planning. And some stopping and starting to check in with the plan, revise it, and consider how it’s going.
If I just try to push through non-stop, I will tend to miss good opportunities, in my zeal to get to the end. And I will often find the draft doesn’t give me material with enough solidity and value to happily rewrite from. Instead, the next draft becomes more like the first real draft, and the vomit draft more of an exercise that didn’t yield much.
But that’s just me. What’s your experience? Does a vomit draft often feel good and lead to inspired material? Or does it not matter because the best material comes later, when rewriting a first draft that doesn’t have to be “good,” just done?
I definitely agree with you, I find I must pre plan in some manner before starting a vomit draft or else I’m doomed to fail. Plus, like you said, inspiration is a major component in creating a good vomit draft as well — that flow state. So an outline, even a thin skeleton outline, is what I have to have before creating my vomit draft. So I guess mine is more of a preplanned vomit draft.
Non sequitur question: I’ve searched for many years for any BoB script online. How come they’re so elusive and I’ve never be able to find one except an ugly transcript? Wait… haha…scratch that. I just found episode 3, 8 & 9. I guess if you quit looking for a few years, somethings just show up… 🙂
Thanks for the comment and congrats on finding those BoB scripts! Where did you find them, out of curiosity?
I tend to panic even with vomit drafts. So, I spend several weeks hurling at the page. By doing that, I’ll have one draft that I’m reasonably happy with…..then start working from there
Being a pantser is the only way I can write. I have no idea how people plot it all out before they start to write. I have tried. I need to get into a relationship with the characters and listen to them to understand them . I don’t see the need for one way to be reinforced over another .
Exactly right, Erik. The rush to “just finish the thing” often is associated with an incomplete outline and an impatience to complete the manuscript. So vomit drafts are … vomited out … and the result is vomit.
But maybe there is a better way. Take the time to create a solid, extensive outline. Know where you’re going and why. Know your character and plot arc. THEN commence with the vomiting.
These are two matters. Organizing the material. And writing a first draft.
So, be as organized as you can AND write out a quick first attempt.
Then begin the all-important re-write – which is most of your job anyway.
Great insight, Erik.
As a beginner, it happened to me. I couldn´t hold myself to finish a proper outline, and I jumped directly to the script. I wrote page after page until I finished my one hundred something. Somehow, I found an end that was satisfactory for me. But, a big but, the way to get to that end was terrible, confusing, and terribly BORING. Later, I didn´t know how to fix that manuscript, and I had to start from scratch. It feels now like a massive waste of time that I have not to repeat again.
Vomit drafts are a bit like the lottery, you might get lucky but the odds are stacked against you. It’s a kamikaze approach to screenwriting. I’ve tried it in the past and struggled to find anything worth saving. Having worked with several successful writers, I’d say a minimum of 70% (often higher) is in their 1st draft. Or at least the first that gets released. They struggle like anyone else if it isn’t. It’s all about the idea. The more you research and refine a master outline, the better. It will help you stick to the core ideas when the script is underway. Plus you to get to know your characters before setting them out on their journey. I also do market awareness research – what is already, or soon to be, out there. Timing in life is everything..
My first draft is usually highly organized vomit. I have my plot points, but some of the “getting there” or just needing to move the story forward but it feels robotic or my heads not in it (insert writer’s challenge here) where I find myself staring at a blank page is when I just vomit out the scene or scenes.
It’s funny how some days you can write several scenes and other days you’re lucky to get out a page.
Glad we can all commiserate here.
Although not an experienced scriptwriter, after rereading Save The Cat and having just finished The Idea, I am a born again logliner. I have come to recognize my sins of having started 3 scripts (more or less in the Artist’s Way vomit draft method ), with no core plan in mind. It seems to me that much of the initial vomiting, with far less ingested food ( this metaphor can become too visual) can and must be done at the logline stage. My question is does this blog presuppose that a strong logline has been attained?
Yes – not only a strong logline but even further structural work and possibly even a scene-by-scene outline.
Although some writers (particularly novelists) sometimes start writing with less than that…
I’m not a successful writer, so what do I know? But I’ve ridden a few non-writing projects home. Vomiting is okay, painstaking line-by-line perfection is okay as long as neither get in the way. Someplace in your head, there has to be a goal, a vision, or a stupid idea, something that leads you on. As long as that remains intact and you keep your brains about you, you’re okay. Lose your brains, your sense of what you want to achieve, then you’re dead. Literally, figuratively, odoriferously. Hold on tight and keep going…
These thoughts have helped me through some dark nights and nasty mornings.
Love your humility. I bet you’re an interesting writer.
No, I don’t like to write a vomit draft, at least I don’t think of my first draft as one (others may beg to differ). But, my reasoning is that I kinda get lost if I don’t keep it at least somewhere close to structured.
I am not an advocate of the crappy first draft . Every word I put down is an investment. I can’t just write something and throw it away; before I discard anything I have to look it over and make sure I didn’t miss a little “gem.” Are the crappy drafts worth the gems? It doesn’t feel like it. I cart around those “darlings” and they get in the way of good stories, I think. I believe in a thoughtful IDEA (as you teach), a careful outline, and a mindful/inspired first draft.
It occurred to me several years ago that in any great story, the same work has to be done, the same defining questions have to be asked and answered. So whether you do that before or after would seem to be a matter of preference. As a rather lazy person myself, I prefer to do as much of that done ahead of time as possible, giving myself a general roadmap to work from from the start, as opposed to having to whittle down a mountain of vomited (unprocessed) material after the fact. That is a matter of preference; I can see arguments either way about which makes it easier to ask the right questions. (Which again is an individual thing.) That said, I do think that most of what is called “writer’s block” is actually story block—literally not knowing what to write next. If you do the grunt investigatory work ahead of time, that’s much less apt to happen.
Agreed! Thanks Clint.
Reminds me of a post I wrote once on writer’s block… 🙂
Ha. Yep. Great minds, and all that. Great story is all about asking the right questions, both of the idea and of yourself, and knowing which answers help realize the best version of that story. For some that’s a natural talent. The rest of us have to work at it. A lot.
I’d like a list of some of those questions!
Once the germ of a story begins to form, I gather thoughts as they come to mind, writing them down as quickly as I can.
I do a lot of cutting and pasting as I move them around into some semblance of order. It may take weeks as the ideas come
and go. From that I fashion a master outline and begin to write the first draft. It took a while to come around to this, but
it’s a real time / work saver in the end.