Thesis: 2024
Today marks the start of an exciting new chapter.
I launched a website, as well as this newsletter, and have now published its very first post. (Hello everyone!)
I’ll admit that I struggled a bit with what to say in this inaugural moment, but it feels only fitting to kick things off with a mission statement—a thesis, of sorts—about why this newsletter exists, what I hope to achieve with it, as well as a bit about me.
What’s Behind a Name?
The newsletter, as you (hopefully) already know, is called Fourth Draft, but you may be wondering: “why?”
Most pieces of writing typically undergo three distinct drafts: a first, a second, and a third. Perhaps you knew this. I, however, always do a fourth (and sometimes a fifth, or sixth, or… well, you get the point). I often joke with my husband and friends that I am not a writer, but a revisionist. No matter the word count, I am never afraid to scrap entire drafts. I don’t hesitate to cut, rearrange, revise, or rethink any given piece, for I subscribe to the belief that the best draft is hardly ever the first. It’s as much a process as it is a philosophy: after all, so many beautiful things in this world, especially those made by humans, take time, effort, and refinement.
Hence, when it came to naming this endeavor, this place where I intend to dust off and send my stories, I looked to the path that led to it, and to the process that will inevitably go into creating for it. Fourth Draft feels like the perfect way to describe it, the stories that will call it home, and the subconscious scrutiny that I will naturally invest in it (as evidenced by this, the fourth draft of this very post).
Put simply, my hope for this newsletter/publication is to connect with others. The dream is for new readers, other writers, or any other kind of person who reveres words as fiercely as I do, to stumble upon it and engage. Hopefully that’s you!
Who’s Behind the Words?
For those who don’t know me (which is, I imagine, most of you): my name is Stephen Alan Adams. I’ve been writing for more than sixteen years. None of my stories have ever left my hard drive, at least not to go anywhere other than the cloud, but I believe that that’s because I am my own harshest critic. I have incredibly high expectations of myself, and my internal voice often whispers doubts about my ability to achieve them. That’s part of the reason why it took me so long to get to this point, and why doing it at all feels absolutely necessary.
I’ve had a vivid imagination for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories is staring at the popcorn ceiling of my stuffy first grade classroom and imagining a quest across its vast mountainous terrain. Naturally, these stories gathered in my head, and I looked to writing as a means of getting them out. Most writers will tell you that their inspiration for their storytelling comes from a love of books, but mine comes from somewhere that you might not expect: video games. I enjoy games that are narrative-driven (like thatgamecompany’s Journey), games that task me with exploring vast open worlds (like Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild), or games that allow me to role play slices of life (like ConcernedApe’s Stardew Valley).
After graduation from college with a degree in English, Creative Writing, I spent the following year struggling to write, while growing an unexpected career in IT. A year later, in 2017, I experienced a crisis about having still not published anything, and so launched a gaming blog called Joy+Sticks. It was a bright spot in my life for more than five years, one that got me both writing and publishing, but as the blog-turned-podcast started to wind down, I returned to my roots. My friends and I decided to call it quits in 2022, and I naturally found myself working on a novel again. The first draft was completed in November of 2023, and I’m now deep into revisions. Although I’m not quite ready to talk about the details just yet, for fear of putting too much pressure on it and inflaming my anxiety, I am excited to share more when that time comes.
(That being said: If I’ve captured your interest, and you’re up for a scavenger hunt, there is a synopsis of the book somewhere on my website.)
Over the last few months, I’ve steadily been preparing for the realities of publishing; seeking an agent, and a publisher, or doing it all on my own. Not knowing where to even start, I attended The 2024 Atlanta Writing Workshop, an event with the tagline, “get your writing published,” and came away from it with my eyes opened wide. While I finish this novel that I am so deeply proud of—not least of all because of its a culmination of almost two decades of work—I am taking the suggestion of the presenters: “why wait to put yourself out there?”
This newsletter is the vessel through which I have chosen to put myself out there. I’ve been preparing for these first few posts over the last two weeks, combing through my digital archive, and stumbling upon the pieces I completed during my time at Georgia State University. Finding them again, and remembering what it was like to churn out story after story, assignment after assignment, felt significant. Through this newsletter, after all, I intend to do all of that again.
The most striking essay I found from that time is the last: the thesis I wrote in my senior year. I remember being so stressed about it, which is probably why I’d blocked it from my memory, but the words resonate. Reading it again after all this time makes this new venture, of finally putting my focus squarely on my writing, seem overdue. In many ways, it feels like I’m finally honoring the wants and dreams I expressed back then.
Below, you will find an excerpt of this thesis. In it, I explain how I fell in love with writing, and the circumstances that put me on this path. It feels like the perfect way to set the mood for what’s to come, but rather than continue to try and explain it to you, I will let it speak for itself:
Excerpt from: The Senior Exit Portfolio of Stephen Adams
Title: Reflection
Date: April 20, 2016It was the beginning of the Fall Semester, 2013, a semester that would mark the end of my core classes and the beginning of the first set of required business courses for my intended degree in Business Management and Marketing, when I met a professor named Kera Judy. I'd experienced a handful of charming professors at Georgia State before, but Professor Judy was different because she wasn't just fun, she was fun because she was in love with the subject she'd dedicated her life to, a passion that made me more enthusiastic about Geology than any other class I'd taken in college so far. Professor Judy's was not an easy class by far, but I felt a healthy sense of challenge for the first time in my career, and we developed a unique and personal kind of camaraderie.
Professor Judy would offer a sympathetic ear during the few spare minutes we had before class, where I would vent about my classes and begrudge all things numbers, statistics, and business, until one day she requested I talk to her after class. It was the last day before spring break, and I was heading out on vacation with my family to Destin, Florida. She tilted her head back, the way she did whenever she was really looking at someone, and she asked me why I was studying business. No one had ever asked me this since I started college, so I stammered, struggling to find a response, muttering things about entrepreneurship, advertising, and ultimately, money.
"Those are 'what's. I want to know 'why,'" she said. "Are you doing what you want? Or are you doing what's expected? Because in the short time I've known you, you don't strike me as a business man."
I remember feeling embarrassed because she was right. She looked me in the eyes, put her hand on my shoulder, and challenged me to take some time over the break to think about what my passions were, what I would do if money wasn't an issue, and to make a decision about what to do next. In the end, she insisted, all we have in this life, and all we will ever make of ourselves, is what we love, a sentiment I will forever be indebted to her for demonstrating.
Needless to say, during that trip, as I sobbed over a novel that spoke to my dilemma, a shared experience between myself and the page that I hadn't stopped to appreciate before, I made my decision. I was curled up in a gray hoodie on the balcony of the condo we were renting, hugging myself against the morning chill as I watched the orange and yellow sunrise glow over the ocean. My eyes were still tender from crying the night before, and I thought about all of the stories I had written as a kid, the fantasy novella I wrote in high school, and the series of science fiction novels I was writing then; between my statistics, geology, and economics assignments. I remember trying to come up with reasons not to go for English, but all of them were petty, and in the end I could justify nothing but what seemed my destiny, because the choice, unlike any decision I'd ever made about my future, felt incredibly right.
This story is important because it's the first milestone of my career, the moment when I truly embraced my desire to become a writer, to develop my skills, to hone my craft, and take on the task of living, learning, and thinking through writing.
That I did, that I do, and I can’t wait to continue to do so with all of you.
Write again soon,
Stephen Alan Adams