It’s okay to hate them. Or simply not love them. They aren’t children.
Even though, they did breach from the creative loins of their writers.
First drafts are definitely some miserable little bastards.
Their dark, pleading eyes mask their horrific imperfections. They squeal, “Please, please…don’t delete me.”
They create agony in their creators by feeding false genius egos and delivering guilty soul torture.
I have loved my first drafts like a sultry LIONESS protecting her newborn, smelly cubs. I’d sooner slash an internal critic, than let one of my little cubs know the truth.
I’ve also smacked myself awake and said, “No, you didn’t get it right the first time. You’re not brilliant. Kill it.”
But first drafts are necessary evils.
They are the creative sparks for a much bigger flame, burning and lighting the way to development and achievement–one little bonfire at a time.
(Get out the marshmallows. It’s writing time.)