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Drafting forward without editing as you go is the core ethos of Freewrite. Remember that the goal of drafting forward is to get a first draft recorded and translate your thoughts into writing on the page. Revising is a separate step in the writing process and should be reserved for later stages.
But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it? If you haven’t tried drafting forward before — or maybe you have but you’re getting rusty — it’s important to follow several rules to avoid the editing-as-you-go that comes so naturally to writers, as well as other distractions.
To guide your practice, we’ve compiled Freewrite’s 14 Rules for Drafting Forward. Try these during your next writing session and see how they streamline your drafting process and increase your productivity during the drafting stage.
Certainly, research is important across various writing industries and genres. However, it has the potential to become one of the worst forms of procrastination. It's extra tricky because it convinces you that you're actually being productive. So how do you prevent this?
Complete the majority of your research prior to drafting. Alternatively, for subjects within your realm of expertise, consider deferring research until the revising phase. When drafting, if you reach a point requiring a fact-checking or additional information, leave a prompt for yourself right there within the text and proceed with the drafting process.
Begin with a clear understanding of what you want to accomplish in this first draft. You should also have a goal each time you sit down to write. This goal can be as tangible as an outline or notes written on Post-Its, or it can be simply to “write for 25 minutes.” (If you enjoy timed sprints, check out the Pomodoro method!)
We’ve done the hard work for you by creating Freewrite. Now, turn off the TV and put your phone in a different room. Block out your writing time on a calendar so that loved ones know when you aren't to be disturbed.
Avoid the urge to critique or edit your work as you go. Instead, concentrate on getting your thoughts down without judgment.
It’s not enough to say you’re not going to critique your work, we recommend stating it outright: “My goal is to write a messy first draft.” Write it down, stick it on your wall, and embrace the imperfection. This is critical to being able to write freely.
Freewrite has no spellcheck or grammar check. And that's on purpose. Every squiggly line is a distraction, a moment that your writing flow is broken and you have to resist going back to fix typos. Even if your eyes recognize typos, train your brain to fix it later!
Note: This is difficult, especially for writers, and it could take you time to master this method. We highly recommend doing the work to train your brain not to stumble across typos. This will help you stay in flow longer. And besides, with all the editing software out there these days, cleaning up a messy first draft is easier than ever!
Trust your instincts and write without overanalyzing each sentence. Did that last sentence sound stupid?Who cares?! Anything goes in a messy first draft. You’ll refine and revise later!
This serves as an additional technique to coax your mind into tapping into that profound, creative reservoir inaccessible during periods of overthinking. Aim for a state of flow where your typing pace matches the natural rhythm of your thoughts.
Should you experience writer's block or find yourself grappling with a challenging section, avoid the urge to stop and ruminate on it. Instead, move on to a different part and revisit the troublesome section later.
We personally find it beneficial to insert a note directly into the draft, serving as a reminder to revisit that particular spot during the editing phase.
If you're struggling to find the perfect word or need to verify a source, simply insert a placeholder and continue writing. A preferred placeholder for us is "xx," as it can be easily searched using editing software. Alternatively, some prefer placeholders like "[INSERT QUOTE]" or "[CHECK SOURCE]." These gaps can be filled in during the editing phase.
While Freewrite devices do have backspace keys, we’d like to challenge you to use it as little as possible. Or not at all. Remember: Anything can be fixed later. But your writing flow is fragile.
Frequently during the drafting process, a brilliant sentence may come to us, even if it describes something already mentioned. If this happens to you, refrain from backtracking, deleting the initial sentence, and substituting it with the new one. Instead, continue writing the new sentence! Addressing these redundancies is a straightforward task that can be tackled during the editing phase.
Try different styles and approaches without judgement. You can evaluate and pick the best one later, during the editing stage.
If you try the above rules of forward drafting, we suspect you’ll unlock a way of writing that you may not have experienced since you were a kid. You’ll be surprised by how much you write, the creative ideas your imagination comes up with, and how much fun you have while writing.
Looking to learn more? Download Set Your Story Free: The Writer's Guide to Freewrite absolutely free.
I’ve spent years writing while secretly fearing that a single misplaced word would expose me — not just as a bad writer, but as a fraud.
My background is originally in photography, and I see it there, too. A photographer I know recently posted a before-and-after comparison of their editing from 2018 versus now, asking if we also saw changes in our own work over the years.
Naturally, we should. If our work is the same, years apart, have we really grown as artists?
So why is that the growing, the process of it, the daily grind of it, is so painful?
So why is that the growing, the process of it, the daily grind of it, is so painful?
Hitting “publish” on an essay or a blog always stirs up insecurity — the overthinking, the over-editing. The fear that someone will call me out for not being a real writer.
I initially hesitated to make writing part of my freelance work. My background is in photography and design. Writing was something I gravitated toward, but I had no degree to validate it. No official stamp of approval.
Like many writers, I started with zero confidence in my voice — agonizing over edits, drowning in research, second-guessing every word.
I even created a shield for myself: ghostwriting.
I even created a shield for myself: ghostwriting.
If my words weren’t my own, they couldn’t be wrong. Ghostwriting meant safety — no risk, no vulnerability, just words without ownership.
I still remember the feeling of scrolling to the bottom of an article I had written and seeing someone else’s name, their face beside words that had once been mine.
The truth is, I always wanted to write. As a kid, I imagined it. Yet, I found myself handing over my work, letting someone else own it.
I told myself it didn’t matter. It was work. Getting paid to write should be enough.
But here’s the thing: I wasn’t just playing it safe — I was slowly erasing myself. Word by word. Edit by edit. And finally, in the by-line.
I wasn’t just playing it safe — I was slowly erasing myself. Word by word. Edit by edit. And finally, in the by-line.
This was true when I was writing under my own name, too. The more I worried about getting it right, the less I sounded like me.
I worried. I worried about how long an essay was (“people will be bored”), finding endless examples as proof of my research (“no way my own opinion is valid on its own”), the title I gave a piece (“it has to be a hook”), or editing out personal touches (“better to be safe than be seen”).
I built a guardrail around my writing, adjusting, tweaking, over-correcting. Advice meant to help only locked me in. It created a sentence rewritten to sound smarter, an opinion softened to sound safer, a paragraph reshaped to sound acceptable.
I built a guardrail around my writing, adjusting, tweaking, over-correcting.
But playing it safe makes the work dull. Writing loses its edge.
It took deliberate effort to break this habit. I’m not perfect, but here’s what I know after a year of intentionally letting my writing sound like me:
My work is clearer. It moves with my own rhythm. It’s less shaped by external influence, by fear, by the constant need to smooth it into something more polished, more likable.
But playing it safe makes the work dull. Writing loses its edge.
The drive for acceptance is a slippery slope — one we don’t always realize we’re sliding down. It’s present in the small choices that pull us away from artistic integrity: checking how others did it first, tweaking our work to fit a mold, hesitating before saying what we actually mean.
And let’s be honest — this isn’t just about writing. It bleeds into everything.
It’s there when we stay silent in the face of wrongdoing, when we hold back our true way of being, when we choose work that feels “respectable,” whatever that means. It’s in every “yes” we say when we really want to say “no.”
If your self-expression is rooted in a need for acceptance, are you creating for yourself — or for others? Does your work help you explore your thoughts, your life? Does it add depth, energy, and meaning?
My work is clearer. It moves with my own rhythm. It’s less shaped by external influence, by fear, by the constant need to smooth it into something more polished, more likable.
I get it. We’re social creatures. Isolation isn’t the answer. Ignoring societal norms won’t make us better writers. Often, the most meaningful work is born from responding to or resisting those norms.
But knowing yourself well enough to recognize when acceptance is shaping your work brings clarity.
Am I doing this to be part of a community, to build connections, to learn and grow?
Or am I doing this to meet someone else’s expectations, dulling my voice just to fit in?
Here’s what I know as I look back at my writing: I’m grateful for the years spent learning, for the times I sought acceptance with curiosity. But I’m in a different phase now.
I know who I am, and those who connect with my work reflect that back at me — in the messages they send, in the conversations we share.
I know who I am, and those who connect with my work reflect that back at me — in the messages they send, in the conversations we share.
It’s our differences that drive growth. I want to nurture these connections, to be challenged by difference, to keep writing in a way that feels like me. The me who isn’t afraid to show what I think and care about.
So, I ask you, as I ask myself now:
If no one was watching, if no one could judge, what would you write?
If no one was watching, if no one could judge, what would you write?
A book deal without an agent? An agent offer after a book deal? Learn how Writer Bobby Miller took his publishing journey into his own hands.
We've chatted with the creatures of Middle Earth to discover their writing preferences and which Freewrite devices work best for each of them.
Find your Lord of the Rings identity and discover your next Freewrite.
