In a workshop I attended recently, one of the other writers shared a piece of insight into the writing process she’d learned from working with Canadian writer Michael Winter. A story, he said, has eleven drafts. No matter how long or short it is.

This was an interesting for me to think about in relation to my own work – specifically my second novel. I have spent five and a half years working on it, going through several complete and vastly different drafts. It went through six rewrites before I finally had the story where I wanted it to be, after which I soldiered on with finer edits, ironing out grammatical mistakes, fine tuning characterisation and little droplets of exposition.

I would say the novel is in draft seven now, or possibly draft eight. What the concepts of eleven drafts has made me wonder though, is what exactly counts as a draft? Does the writer need to go through the whole manuscript before calling it a completed draft, or can the drafting process be broken down into chapters? In which case, my first three chapters are probably on draft ten, chapters four to seven on draft nine. This autumn I managed to acquire an editor. Once I receive her editorial comments, those early chapters will probably be bumped up to draft ten or eleven.

Why exactly eleven drafts, though? What is so magical about number eleven? In numerology, 11 is considered a master number, carrying an intense vibration and energy that surpasses other numbers. It is associated with personal growth and transformation, empathy and being able to trust your instincts. It is a prime number, and has its own cultural reference through the saying “the eleventh hour”, the last possible moment to take care of something, as paraphrased from The Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard in the Bible.

Perhaps it is the aura of energy and growth that makes the eleventh draft the one where the story finally reaches its ultimate self and transformation. Perhaps the last possible changes to a story can only be done in number eleven. Or eleven is simply a good number to round up to reflect the number of times a story has to be revisited.

What I think is important to take note of, though, is that these eleven drafts may need to be spaced out across time. As countless writers will have experienced themselves or learned from more experienced peers, we sometimes need to step away from the story for a while and return to it with fresh eyes. Only then can we go through another draft. This process, depending on what you’re writing, may take two weeks, a month, half a year, a year. In my case, five and half, going on six. However long, do count the number drafts. That can be clear indicator of how far through the process you’ve come.