🖋️ The Many Lives of a Draft: From Dictation to Depth

There’s something magical about the first draft. It’s not polished, not perfect—but it’s alive. It winds its way through my mind, twisting and turning, sometimes surprising me as much as the reader it’s destined for. Often, I’m dictating as I walk Rupert, letting the rhythm of my steps guide the rhythm of the story.

The characters speak, the plot unfolds, and the landscape around me becomes part of the scene.

But that first draft is just the beginning.

🎙️ Draft Two: The Great Deciphering

Editing begins with translation. Not from one language to another, but from speech to text—often hilariously misheard by my dictation software. What I said and what it thinks I said are sometimes worlds apart. So draft two is less about refining and more about decoding. It’s a slow, meticulous process, but one that reconnects me with the raw energy of the story.

🧩 Draft Three: Plot, People, and Puzzle Pieces

By the third draft, I’m deep in the architecture. Timelines, character arcs, motivations—this is where I check that everything holds together. That the murderer’s motive makes sense, that the detective’s instincts are believable, and that the twists land with impact.

✂️ Draft Four: Tightening the Screws

This is my sentence edit. The moment the story starts to feel like a novel. I trim, tweak, and tighten. I listen for rhythm, for voice, for emotional resonance. It’s where the prose begins to breathe.

📝 Draft Five: Markups, Not Makeovers

I don’t hand my manuscript over for someone else to change. I can’t. I won’t. But I do invite an editor to mark it up. Suggestions, questions, nudges. I review every one, weighing them against the heartbeat of the story.

🔄 Draft Six: Flow and Feel

Another pass. Another layer. I revisit plot and pacing, making sure everything flows. It’s a dance between instinct and structure, between knowing the story and letting it surprise me again.

📖 Draft Seven: The Reader’s Chair

This final read is sacred. No major changes. Just immersion. I sit back and experience the story as a reader would. And somewhere in that quiet, I ask myself the question that always lingers:

I’ve lived this story. I know these people—their quirks, their secrets, their murderous intent. Will others enjoy it as much as I do?

That’s the leap of faith every writer takes. And it’s one I’ll keep taking, draft after draft, walk after walk, story after story.

🕵️‍♀️ Lethal Leith Hill is nearly there—hovering between that sixth and seventh draft. The bones are strong, the voice is clear, and the tension still grips me even after all these passes. I can feel the finish line, and with it, the thrill (and nerves) of sharing it with you. Soon.

Have a great week,

Love Helen x