The Freedom to Write Badly (So You Can Fix It Later)

You're halfway through your story when you suddenly realize the pacing is all wrong. That thrilling chase scene? It drags. The emotional revelation that should hit like a freight train? It limps across the finish line. Your carefully planned narrative rhythm feels more like a car with a flat tire—thump, thump, thump—than the smooth ride you envisioned.

Here's the thing: you're not alone, and you're definitely not broken as a writer.

The problem isn't that you can't write well-paced stories. The problem is that you're trying to nail perfect pacing in your first draft. And that's like trying to ice a cake that's still in the oven—messy, frustrating, and ultimately impossible.

Enter the liberating concept of the "Shitty First Draft," a term popularized by Anne Lamott in her brilliant book Bird by Bird. This isn't just permission to write badly—it's a strategic approach to getting your story down on paper without the crushing weight of perfectionism. And when it comes to pacing issues specifically, this mindset might just be your secret weapon.

Why Pacing Breaks Down in First Drafts (And Why That's Okay)

Before we dive into solutions, let's acknowledge why pacing is so tricky to nail on the first try.

When you're drafting, you're essentially doing three impossibly complex things simultaneously:

- Discovering your story as you write it (even if you've outlined)
- Managing dozens of craft elements like character development, dialogue, description, and theme
- Trying to maintain narrative momentum while figuring out what happens next

No wonder your pacing feels off! You're juggling chainsaws while riding a unicycle. On fire.

The first draft isn't where pacing gets perfected—it's where the raw material for good pacing gets created. That sluggish scene you're worried about? It's a block of marble. Michelangelo's David is in there somewhere, but first you need the stone.

Embracing the Shitty First Draft for Better Pacing

So how do we apply this concept specifically to pacing problems? Here's your game plan:

Give Yourself Permission to Overwrite

In your first draft, write everything. Every thought, every description, every moment of internal reflection. Yes, even the boring parts.

Why? Because you can't know what you don't need until you see it all laid out. That seemingly endless description of the protagonist walking through the forest might feel glacially paced right now, but during revision, you'll quickly spot which details sparkle and which ones drag. You'll cut 80% and keep the 20% that actually creates atmosphere without killing momentum.

Trying to write only the essential parts on your first pass is like trying to edit a photograph that hasn't been taken yet. Take the shot first. Adjust the exposure later.

Let Scenes Run Long

When you're drafting an important scene—especially emotional or action-heavy moments—resist the urge to compress as you write. Let characters ramble. Let the sword fight go on too long. Let the breakup conversation meander through several topics.

Here's the counterintuitive truth: it's far easier to cut and tighten a scene that's too long than to expand one that's too short. A lengthy first-draft scene gives you options. You can feel where the emotional peaks actually occur, identify the strongest dialogue exchanges, and spot the exact moment where things get redundant.

In revision, you'll slash and burn with confidence because you'll know what the scene was trying to accomplish. You can't get that clarity while you're still figuring out what your characters would say.

Skip the Stuff That Bores You

Paradoxically, while giving yourself permission to overwrite important scenes, also give yourself permission to skip or rush through sections that don't excite you.

If you're bored writing the getting-from-point-A-to-point-B scene, write this in your draft: "[They travel to the castle. Insert some tension here. Maybe bandits? Figure this out later.]"

You've just given yourself a note that says "pacing issue ahead." Perfect! That's what revision is for. The important thing is you're not stuck. You kept the story moving forward, and you've flagged it for future you to address when you're in fix-it mode rather than creation mode.

The Revision Phase: Where Pacing Magic Happens

Once you've completed your glorious, messy, overwritten, under-written, pacing-disaster first draft, you've actually accomplished something remarkable: you now have a complete story to work with.

This is when you can actually see pacing problems clearly:

Reading your draft straight through reveals where you got bored (too slow), where you felt confused (too fast), and where you stayed engaged (just right). Mark these spots without judgment. This is data, not failure.

Analyzing scene length becomes possible when every scene exists. Spread out your scenes on notecards or in a spreadsheet. Which ones run long? Which feel rushed? Does your pacing create the right rhythm for your genre?

Strategic cutting and expanding is now achievable because you understand what each scene accomplishes. Cut the repetitive dialogue from that overwritten emotional confrontation. Expand that too-brief action sequence by adding sensory details and breaking it into beats.

Your Pacing Will Thank You

Here's what happens when you embrace the shitty first draft specifically for pacing:

You write faster because you're not second-guessing every sentence. You finish more stories because you're not stuck perfecting chapter three for six months. And ironically, your pacing improves because you're separating the creative phase from the analytical phase—and each phase becomes more effective when you're not trying to do both at once.

The writers who produce well-paced stories aren't magically nailing it on the first try. They're giving themselves permission to get it wrong initially so they can get it right eventually.

Moving Forward

Your next step is simple: Open your current draft and give yourself permission to write the next scene imperfectly. Too long? Too short? Weirdly paced? Doesn't matter. Just write it. Get to the end.

Because the secret to great pacing isn't writing it right the first time. It's writing it badly enough that you have something concrete to improve.

Now go write that shitty first draft. Your beautifully paced final draft is waiting on the other side.