If you have spent much time hiking in national parks or government protected land, you may have noticed signs like these:

These are areas where the park is being intentional about regrowth. The land can still flourish, but not if a bunch of us are traipsing around on it, so for a period of time, they post signs to keep us off.

I saw that second sign, “Sensitive Area, Keep Out” on a hike in Wisconsin over the summer, and I thought, “Wouldn’t it be great if I could post a sign like that about things in my life?” I certainly have topics or situations that feel extra tender or raw, and it would be so helpful if people knew, “Don’t ask Stephanie about that thing.”

One part of my writing life that I decided long ago merited a, “Sensitive Area, Keep Out” sign is my first drafts. No, I don’t have a real sign posted, but years ago I put up the boundary that my first drafts were only to be seen by me.

Do I think every writer needs this boundary? Nope. There are lots of writers who enjoy getting feedback as they write, and who feel they benefit from things like weekly critique group meetings. If that’s you, I’m not trying to change your mind. But these are the reasons why I keep my first drafts to myself:

Reason 1: I can’t handle all those voices.

Back in high school, I used to share my chapters as I wrote them. I passed them out to friends asking for “honest feedback.” Then I sat back and hoped for a flood of praise to roll in.

Much of what my friends had to say was positive, though this was largely because I had kind, supportive friends. Not because my story deserved it. Their regular praise was exciting, and during that season of my life, I felt motivated to write consistently because friends were asking for the next chapter. That was a great feeling.

But I was also noticing thoughts like these creeping into my head as I wrote:

“I think my character should end up with Carter, but Lauren likes the other guy better. Should I do that instead?”

“I planned on writing another chapter set in this location, but Christina thought the last one was really boring, so maybe I shouldn’t…”

While these comments from Lauren and Christina certainly could have been useful to me to consider (more on that when I talk about reason 3), I’ve learned that the first draft is not when I need to hear them. If I listen to others as I’m writing the story, too many voices get in my head, and I lose sight of the story I was trying to tell.

Reason 2: I get too, “I’m amazing!” or, “I’m the worst!”

Have you ever been around an overly confident writer? It’s not fun. They want you to stop whatever you’re doing to listen to this “incredible” paragraph they just wrote, and heaven forbid you have anything but glowing praise to offer them. Worst of all, they lack the humility to learn anything from anybody else. Everybody who loves their work “gets it” and everybody else “doesn’t get it.”

I know from experience that I can tip this direction. It isn’t pretty.

I can swing the other way too. In high school, I was completely enchanted by much of what I wrote, and I had a lot of friends say a lot of nice things. When one friend said one very not-nice thing, it messed with my head big time. I let her words carry far more weight than I should have, and I never touched that story again.

I’ve learned that even when I have a new story idea, I need to keep it to myself for a bit. Because if I share it really early and get any kind of response that’s less than, “THIS IS YOUR MOST BRILLIANT IDEA YET!” then I can lose my interest before I’ve given my idea a fair shake. That’s an unfair amount of responsibility to put on the people around me, so now I give myself a few days to brainstorm and stay excited about the idea before I mention it to anyone else.

Also, I can’t NOT share this meme right now. I’ve never felt so seen.

Reason 3: The feedback isn’t useful . . . yet.

My first drafts are never good. I’m not saying that to try and look humble, they just really aren’t. Nobody writes good first drafts. While the story is very much alive in my head—fully drawn characters, elaborate sets, a robust plot—during the first draft, I still haven’t figured out how to get everything I’m seeing in my head onto the page.

If I were to ask you to read my first draft, I’m guessing that nearly every mistake you point out to me is something I could have noticed myself. Especially if I had taken my usual six weeks off before I started editing. Then it’s extra easy for me to spot what needs fixing.

But I definitely get to a point where I’ve worked with the story for so long, I can’t see what else is wrong with it. So after several rounds of edits, I’m ready to take down my “Sensitive Area, Keep Out” signs and receive feedback. My critique partners are always amazing about showing me plot holes or faulty character motivations or other bigger issues that I couldn’t see for myself, and that I’m guessing they couldn’t have seen either if they were having to slog through my clunky first draft.

Let’s go back to my friends’ comments that I shared back in reason one about letting in too many voices. Lauren and Christina offered that feedback (about liking the other guy better and the new setting being boring) after having read chapter two of my manuscript. When I let in that kind of feedback before I’d written chapter three, it messed with me. I felt I needed to solve those problems right then.

But when the story is written, and I’ve done my edits, and I’ve decided to now receive critical feedback, I’m able to approach comments from a much less sensitive mindset. At that point, if Lauren says she likes the other guy better, I might think, “Why does she like the other character better? Is that something I need to fix or is it just the nature of writing a love triangle?” Or when Christina says the scenes set in this particular place are boring, I’ll think, “Why did I choose to set those scenes there? Why do I think she’s finding those boring?” At that point in the story writing process, my perspective is much better for processing criticism.

We need the criticism of our work to grow as writers, but we don’t have to receive it as we’re working on that first draft. I know not all writers are as sensitive as I am, but if you are, consider putting a boundary around your first drafts and declaring, “Sensitive Area, Keep Out.”

When do you share your work with others?

Stephanie Morrill writes books about girls who are on an adventure to discover their unique place in the world. She is the author of several contemporary young adult series, as well as two historical young adult novels, The Lost Girl of Astor Street and Within These Lines. Within These Lines was a Junior Library Guild Gold Standard selection, as well as a YALSA 2020 Best Fiction for Young Adults pick. Since 2010, Stephanie has been encouraging the next generation of writers at her website, GoTeenWriters.com, which has been on the Writer’s Digest Best Websites for Writers list since 2017. She lives in the Kansas City area, where she loves plotting big and small adventures to enjoy with her husband and three children. You can connect with Stephanie and learn more about her books at StephanieMorrill.com, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.