Summary

A blogger reflects on the value of preserving paper drafts of their work, considering their potential historical significance against the practicality of storage.

Abstract

The author, a blogger and aspiring screenwriter, ponders whether the drafts leading to their completed works could be of interest in the future, akin to how iconic song sheets or historical manuscripts are treasured. While acknowledging the unlikelihood of achieving literary fame, the author questions the possibility of their drafts being influential or worthy of study. The piece reflects on the transition from paper to digital drafts and the diminishing tangible history of the writing process. Despite the sentimentality attached to physical drafts, the author ultimately decides against hoarding them, recognizing the impracticality of preserving every iteration of their work.

Opinions

The author values the potential historical significance of their drafts, likening them to artifacts.
There is a recognition that achieving fame comparable to legendary authors or historical figures is improbable.
The author expresses satisfaction with writing and reader enjoyment, regardless of the drafts' future value.
The piece conveys a sense of loss and nostalgia for the physical act of writing and the tangible evidence of the creative process.
The author acknowledges the shift towards digital writing and its impact on the preservation of drafts.
There is a pragmatic decision to not save paper drafts, due to the unlikelihood of them becoming historically significant and the practical concerns of storage.
The author suggests that the evolution of a work through its drafts could be as compelling as the final product.

Is There Value in Holding On To Paper Copies of Old Drafts?

Can the iterations of a given work throughout its many drafts be as compelling as the final product?

When I see original drafts of sheet music for iconic songs selling for millions of dollars at auction, or scraps of paper written by legendary authors or historical figures as artifacts in a museum, I wonder: would anyone be interested in the drafts leading to my own completed works? Should I be saving my drafts?

As a humble blogger and aspiring screenwriter, I know it would be like a lottery win to achieve rock star status in the literary world. I have no plans or aspirations to that effect. As long as I am able to write, I am happy. If readers enjoy my work along the way, that is a huge bonus which makes me so very grateful.

I was just going through my shredding pile, watching page after page of blog drafts get ground up into confetti. While on the one hand, I applaud myself for not letting clutter accumulate, on the other, I can’t help but ask if this might be “the one” that might change the world.

Could this possibly be the blog post that journals will be quoting?

Could this be the blog post that English teachers will be dissecting for students for generations to come?

Could this be the blog post that will generate discussion and debate among scholars?

Could this be the one for which its original drafts would be a treasured artifact, long after I have written my last word?

Could the ideas scribbled on the back of a crumpled grocery list be the subject of speculation and interpretation, centuries from now?

Who knows when a blogger’s writings from this point in time might be holding the missing puzzle piece for someone centuries from now, to truly understand what society was thinking and doing at this point in time. (Funny enough, I sometimes ask myself the same question, even though I’m living in the here and now.)

But for that big “what if”, should I be hanging on to my previous drafts? Might the evolution of a given work be as revealing in itself as the final product? Might the rejected passages tell a valuable story of their own?

The reality is that previous drafts are getting increasingly rare for me, as I seem to have transitioned to mostly writing first drafts on the computer, rather than on paper. True enough, I could not live without my journals and scratch paper for writing quick notes to get transcribed later. But the possibility of tracing the evolution of one idea through its rewrites fades when I just hit the save button over and over.

On the one hand, that increasing scarcity is a good argument in favour of saving previous versions. On the other, I can’t imagine renting storage space to preserve a mountain of old drafts.

Hmm… what to do?

A moment later, the decision was made. I fed the next sheet into the shredder, and started worrying less about the downstream societal impacts of destroying this one sheet of paper.

Did you enjoy this post? If you did, your claps, comments and follows are most appreciated.

Sincere thanks for reading!

Have a great day,

André