I do not have a complete draft of my YA novel, but I have typed the first word of the first scene (the) and the last word of the last scene (laughed), and all the words in between. The reason why this doesn't constitute a first draft for me is because if I sent it out in the world in this shape, even to trusted first readers, it would die. The lungs are hanging on by mere threads. The heart is sewn onto the elbow.
So, what's required now is what they used to call meatball surgery on M*A*S*H. It's not polish and perfection. It's more stuff like, if the heroes employ a mummy in the climax to save the day, I have to actually go back and write in a mummy for them to employ.
This is a dangerous time for me. The language is clunky, the characters inconsistent, some of the plot business completely nonsensical, and not being able to fix all these things before people read the draft can push me pretty far out on the ledge of shame and despair. But I don't have time to fix all these things. I only have time to shove the heart into the chest cavity and hit it with my fist and scream, "Live, damn you, live!" Alan Alda-style.

So, what's required now is what they used to call meatball surgery on M*A*S*H. It's not polish and perfection. It's more stuff like, if the heroes employ a mummy in the climax to save the day, I have to actually go back and write in a mummy for them to employ.
This is a dangerous time for me. The language is clunky, the characters inconsistent, some of the plot business completely nonsensical, and not being able to fix all these things before people read the draft can push me pretty far out on the ledge of shame and despair. But I don't have time to fix all these things. I only have time to shove the heart into the chest cavity and hit it with my fist and scream, "Live, damn you, live!" Alan Alda-style.


Comments
My own patient is circling the drain. It needs a transfusion of lifeblood, but it's spring and I'm going for a walk with Theo, instead. It can suck me dry later.
Good luck!!
Unless, of course, there's one of those documentary crews around. In that case, it's redshirt city.
The mummy thing is the Karloff variant of Chekhov's Rule: "If there's a mummy on stage in the first act, it must be unleashed to wreak havoc by the third act."
- yeff
Despite Chekhov being Russian, I'm not sure he had too many logic courses in school...
- yeff
I'm nearing the final 10-15k of the novel, but it is in the skeletal with muscles and tendons framework, but not all the cardiovascular stuff worked in.
For me it's more of: "We haven't interacted with purportedly important character that we introduced in Scene 7 for a while, I'll have to go back and make sure to weave back in" and "I need less whitewalling here, but how to add more shine?"
It wouldn't be your book if said skin and organs were all in the expected places.
I hope it all gets better from here.
Congrats.
(omg your post header had my eyes widening and a lump in my throat before I even consciously placed the reference, that series finale was so imprinted on me at a mitochondrial level)
Also I have such a crush on Alan Alda.
Alan Alda is a real charmer, seriously.
Oh, and when you shove the heart into the chest cavity, make sure you connect it to the veins and arteries before sewing it back up again, or dammit, the thing just won't work no matter how much juice you give it!!
/wink?
That's what I'm on about.
You're an errand boy...sent by grocery clerks...to collect a bill.
Oh, yeah, cool about the novel and stuff too.
Oz