Just as Story is conceived and set down differently by each writer, Draft has a multitude of meanings as well. The word "draft" brings to my mind the blowing of wind, changing levels and places and the rather rude but appropriate idea of "windbag." Editing takes over the grammar and tense and narrative structure, but true revision and rewriting should change the power of story, and that includes changing a windbag into a tale teller.
I usually edit and do minor revisions as I go along until I have a first draft that appears to be finished–has a beginning, middle and end. Then I read it over several times, may ask someone else to read it as well (feedback being the prime instigator and motivator to "Save As" a new draft) make more minor revisions, and blow outta there into Draft #2.
Big Tim Dawson’s Draft #2 is complete. But complete in this case means that it’s been taken as far as it can go, has been polished, and as this polishing has been going on, the more apparent the big changes that could be implemented to improve the story and character become. With the little minutiae of word changes complete, it’s time to take out the axe. Onto Draft #3.
Moving on to a new Draft, for me, means that the previous drafts should be saved since the changes made now may impact other areas, and the base of the story need be available in case it is needed to go back and see if something that has been deleted was necessary to the flow. otherwise, the writer can become hopelessly lost. I’ve cut out characters entirely and then found them referred to in a better sequence or scene that I’ve left in. Right now, I’m about to eliminate Big Tim’s father after cutting down his part in the story to a point where I’m asking myself Is he necessary to be there at all? I found that he isn’t, and like Tim’s mother before him, he’ll be chopped out.
I need to remember that no matter where and how much you trim, there’s still left a trunk that branches out in an intriguing and interesting pattern that can easily be likened to the art of Bonsai if it is creatively planned. So any phrases, scenes, dialogue are being questioned now, and if they disturb the balance of the tree of story, they’ll be cut.
And now I’ll admit the secondary purpose of moving on to a new "draft" and retaining the old ones intact though defunct: Watching the word count go up and up to build a feasible story is exciting. Those words were crafted by style and voice and sometimes the results have been exquisite to a writer’s own ears. Once recognized as extraneous, they’ll be lost; except in the saving a copy to the hard drive where they’ll likely never be read even by the writer himself. Then, the excitement is found as the word count goes down in concise and precise and development of a much clearer and hard-punching story.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology