Tip Sheet: Revision

Revision is my favorite part of the writing process. Here's how I do it.

I hear the complaints about revision. How hard it is. The pain of cutting words and crossing out beautiful, but unnecessary language and all the time spent rereading and restructuring.

I get it. It’s hard for me too.

But it’s fantasy to believe that everything we write arrives gorgeous and clear and compelling. That we can get away with a few little tweaks and be good to go.

That’s not how it works. And if you want publishers and readers to read anything you write, you’re going to have to get comfortable with cutting even the most lovely language and revising like a fiend.

My Favorite Part

I looovvvee revision. I think it’s my favorite part of writing—and it is writing. Coming to the blank page and unfurling an idea that is daunting for me. But when I come back to a page that is filled with words—even bad ones— I can see where I want to go so much easier and I know I can tug it, cut it, and shape it until the words are just right and all sitting in the right place.

Revision is not polishing

Often it is rewriting. Today I worked on a chapter in my novel and wound up deleting almost an entire chapter and starting again. I moved a section of another into the first part of the book and cut a passage of writing that I loved, but it just wasn’t working. At least not from that character’s point of view.

Nonfiction is even harder, I think. Often we come to the essay or article with so much research—and it’s all compelling—but it doesn’t all fit in the story we are writing. In revision, we can see that. The cool things that don’t belong and we can take them out.

Time in Revision

I spend much more time in revision than I do writing—but again, it’s all writing—just different parts of the process. And while the time spent revising depends on the type of piece I’m writing, the length, the research, and a ton of preliminary factors, my writing/revision process is always the same.

Here’s how I do it.

Quick draft. When I’m ready to start writing a new piece, I write it fast and hard. Ripping it out. Some call this the vomit draft.

I call it a quick draft and I go from beginning to end and drop everything into the story that might possibly work in the piece.

If I recognize I need a fact or info I don’t yet have, I leave a note in the text and keep going. I do this for every blog, every newsletter, every article, every chapter. When I’m ready to put the words out, I sit down and rip them out and that’s it on that piece for the day.

Quick draft and quit for the day.

Look for the big, obvious stuff. When go back to it the very next day, I start by looking at the big elements. Does the story start at the beginning or is the opening buried, as is often the case, halfway down? Clean up typos, look for the focus of the piece—this can be an angle or focus of a magazine or site story, or in a novel this could be character motivation. What does the character want here? And is it clear? Can readers follow the story and the information? Will they want to? Is there tension? Suspense? Is there information the readers must have?

Refine everything. The structure is taking shape, by this point. The openings and endings are probably clearer, your focus is tight, and now you’ve got to make everything work together. This is the heavy lifting. Eliminate anything that doesn’t support the main points or move the story forward. Check facts and continuity details.

Improve your openings and endings. Check the point of view and sentence structure. Are your sentences varied in length? Are you writing in active voice and using strong verbs?

I have a whole checklist with these and other things listed on it so I remember to check everything. I watch that I’m not repeating words, and keep an eye out for vague phrases, and weak verbs.

Create your own checklist to remind you what to watch for and go over this sucker until your piece feels good.

Let it cool. Give it time to rest. Two hours. Two weeks. Whatever you can allow. I build this cooling-off period into my deadline schedule. I’m shocked about how much more I can see and improve after a cooling-off period.

Print it out. Seriously, the whole damn thing. Print it out. Every piece looks better on the computer than it really is. We’ve got to look at it on the paper.

Read it aloud. Then, sit down in a comfortable spot—I do not do this at my writing desk— and read the manuscript or article on the page. Make marks and notes in the margin when you stumble or bump into the language or structure while reading., so you can come back in the next revision.

When you are done reading, make the changes you’ve indicated. And any others. Print it out. Read aloud. Repeat.

Create Your Own Process

Like writing, your revision process needs to be personal and workable. Something you can replicate and do every time. These aren’t rules to follow, just the structure I use because it has kept me honest for years and keeps me from missing things. This process won’t let me go until the piece is as good as it can be.

How do I know when I’m finished, that’s a whole other question I’ll write about here one day. And the answer depends on the material. My revision process for these columns is faster than my work on my books, for example.

But, no matter the piece, the writing isn’t done until the revision is.

Instead of feeling arduous, revision is a relief.

It frees me up to unwind the ball of yarn into a big mess in the beginning quick draft knowing that I’ll return to untangle it and knit it into something beautiful by the end.

Revision is where the story begins to work. Where it starts to move into something others can follow and feel and understand and experience.

And really? Isn’t that our whole job?

Simply, write (and revise).

-p

I share more about revision and my process on this week’s Simply Write podcast. If you like what you hear, would you please subscribe and leave a review on Apple podcasts? That helps others find the show. Thank you and thanks for listening.