Rewriting was about pounding and shaping the clay. Now you are making finer shaping motions with the tips of your fingers.
Here are some of the strategies I have developed over the years to make revision less scary, more effective, and dare I say, more fun.
Don’t Start Rewriting
For years I had this problem in writing: I didn’t know the difference between rewriting and revising, and every time a revision issue came to my attention, I tried to fix it through rewriting. If a character wasn’t coming across as I intended, I’d change the character completely rather than accentuate them. If the plot had holes, I’d throw out the whole thing and start over rather than filling in the holes. Like an over-correcting young driver, I’d veer so far away from my original vision that the story would end up in the ditch. Over the years, I’ve recognized this problem and learned to make tiny corrections instead of huge ones.
Many writing teachers and resources talk a lot about “killing your darlings.” If there are elements of the story you are clinging to because they’re brilliant but they don’t fit the story, out they go. I don’t disagree with that, but I do think that an equal amount of caution should be taken not to hack apart the work you’ve built in an attempt to solve its issues.
To that end, I advise minimizing the changes you make during the revision stage as much as possible. Work with what is already there. Make sure every change you make enhances the writing but doesn’t unduly complicate the story. Find ways to get the effect you want by changing a word here, or a sentence there, rather than throwing out, or adding, whole paragraphs or scenes.
A caveat here, because I have to: You may find that you actually do need to rewrite. I’ve done valid rewrites right up to the proof stage of writing. But be very, very skeptical, and first see if there is any way to fix the problem through revision.
Two Step Approach
When I mark up a draft with revision changes to be made, I always leave myself notes about the changes to be made rather than attempting to write out the actual changes. For example, rather than trying to revise a whole section of dialogue by shorthand, I’ll make a note in the margin that says something like: “dialog doesn’t match character, change voice and have him mention his mother more often.” Then when I enter changes into the computer, I’ll actually write the new dialogue.
The advantage to going through twice like this is that it gives your subconscious some processing time between when you decide to make the change and when you actually make it. When I sit down to enter changes in my file, I move pretty quickly because I’ve had time to process the best way to execute the change. Also, if you’re making revision changes that require a lot of small changes throughout to maintain consistency, you can be pretty assured that by the time you actually make the change, you’ve found all the loose ends in the manuscript. And finally, whatever I manage to scribble in the tiny margins is usually terrible writing compared to what I can compose in the limitless, instantly erasable landscape of the word-processing document. I find that if I write revisions in the margins, I end up changing them–for the better–when I actually type them in.
One final thought on this subject–up until now you’ve probably been reading your paper manuscript for multiple issues, perhaps breaking revision passes down by story element. When you enter changes on the computer, now is the time to put it all together. You’re going to enter changes page by page, not element by element, so when you make changes in the file, you’ll start to see how all your changes work together, or if they don’t. For example, maybe you’ve added some character actions to reveal flaws that now don’t work with your plot change that puts your character in a different place where those actions are impossible. This is the time to smooth out all those issues.
Revise Direct (Not Recommended)
I really don’t recommend this, especially if this is your first project. However, I do it, so I’m going to talk about it.
What I mean by revising direct is inputting revision changes directly into the computer without having printed and read and marked a paper copy of the draft. The obvious problem with this is that you can end up completely tangling things up, leaving you with an even worse draft full of consistency errors.
So why would you do it? I do it when I need to make changes to get my draft to the point where I’m even ready to print it for a revision readthrough. I’m doing it right now with Book III of Dreams of QaiMaj. I drafted the first two chapters several months before I drafted the rest of the book for Nanowrimo, and now I’m trying to prepare it for the first revision pass, but those first two chapters no longer match up with the rest of the book. So I have to revise them–not rewrite, because it’s mostly details and a few minor events that have changes, not major plot or character shifts–but I don’t want to print the whole manuscript just to revise those two chapters. And I’m just revising them to get them ready for more revision.
That being said, I have revised entire manuscripts this way. And while it feels good to save trees, I still don’t recommend it. The brain processes text on paper differently from text on a screen. For a thorough revision, you need the “text on paper” kind of processing.
Review Your Facts
Remember the four elements of story, plot, character, setting and theme? Take a short period of time to review them before diving into your revision. At the same time, take note of your own strengths and weaknesses within each element. This will not only keep the basic rules of writing fiction fresh in your mind, it will help you know what you need to focus on during the revision. If you’re a visual kind of person, it might help to write out the main points of each story element on notecards and post them above your desk. Or draw pictures that help you remember what’s important.
Take a Walk
I do my best thinking while walking. Often I’ll be stuck with a revision problem that seems completely unsolvable, and I’ll go for a walk. By the end of the walk, the problem is solved and I’m excited and motivated to get back to revising.
Ask the Pros
It can be easy to identify areas for revision in your writing, less easy to know how to actually implement a change. When I’m stuck on implementation, I usually turn to the pros–accomplished authors to whom I aspire.
More often than not, I can find an example in one of my favorite books of an author who does the same thing I am trying to do, but does it really well. For example, I’m certainly not the first fantasy author to take a villain and turn them into a hero by the end of the series–while maintaining their antagonistic personality. Re-reading Stephen R. Donaldson’s Gap Series gave me some great insight into how to do this effectively. Of course, I’m not copying this author, just observing his technique and applying elements of it to the similar but also very different situation in my book.
When you read another book for strategies, do it actively. Take notes, highlight and mark up the copy. Figure out what specific words and phrases and placements elicit the right response. Obviously, you won’t copy those words, but you’ll get the idea of what’s effective, and then apply it in your own voice.
Rinse and Repeat
Have you ever asked another writer how many drafts it took them to finish their book? It’s often a high number. You may need to repeat the revision process from beginning to end (print, read & mark, repeat as necessary, enter changes) multiple times. Don’t worry, this is normal! Most writers go through anywhere from two to twenty drafts. On your first revision pass, deeper issues were probably cloaked under more obvious ones. Once you fix the first set of issues, the other ones appear. This will happen over and over. At a certain point–probably when the prospect of reading the manuscript one more time makes you want to puke–you will know you are done.
Short of indigestion, how can you tell that you are done revising? This is such a critical question that I’ll be devoting an entire post to it later, but allow me to summarize a few thoughts on it here: You’ll know you are done when your answers to the questions in the previous post are all positive. When nothing else is glaring out at you. When you can hand your very least favorite scene to your brutally honest critique group and they say, “you nailed this.”
Finally, you’re done when you’re done. The story on paper is never going to match the ideal story in your mind exactly. But you will reach a point where you will say, “Based on my current writing ability, this is as close to perfect as this story is going to get.” And then you will be done.
Hire an Editor
Revising is the best stage to hire an editor. Especially if you’ve made multiple passes and you know you’re close to having a finished book, but you’re just not sure how to fix those things that are still wrong. A good developmental editor will not only help you identify changes you need to make, he or she will also give you suggestions for how to make those changes. You may not always need suggestions, but if you are stuck with a draft that’s been through countless cycles of revision and you’re still not satisfied, you probably need to hire an editor now.
Give it Time
One last strategy, if you can afford it: take your draft, put it in a drawer, and let it sit for a week, or a month, or a year. This is a good thing to do if you can’t look at your draft objectively enough to even answer the questions posed in the last post. You’ll find that getting distance from the work will open up your ability to look at it critically. It will allow you to be less attached to what at the time you considered brilliant writing.
One last bit of advice: Do yourself a favor and read Revision and Self Editing by James Scott Bell. It’s easy to read, and full of well-written, nuts and bolts advice for revising, including a comprehensive revision checklist.
