"Of course it is," Clara said with a small smile. "It's a first draft. It’s the skeleton, the bare bones. All that matters right now is that you’re getting it down, getting it out of your head. You can't fix a blank page, Elias. You can only fix what’s already there."
He looked at the title he’d scrawled at the top of the first page: “All That Matters.” You Are All That Matters
He looked at the papers again. "I want it to. But look at it. It's full of holes. The characters are flat. The dialogue is stiff." "Of course it is," Clara said with a small smile
The coffee in the chipped mug had gone cold, a stagnant dark pool mirroring the dull grey of the morning sky outside. Elias sat at the small kitchen table, his fingers hovering over the keys of an old typewriter he’d found in a thrift store years ago. Beside him lay a scattered pile of papers—the first draft of a story he had been trying to write for what felt like a lifetime. All that matters right now is that you’re