Recently, I was scrolling through Pinterest for fun and relaxation and as I was saving a bunch of clever writing advice (I have no hobbies) I realized I kept saying to myself “This will be great when I revise” or “That’s a great point. I want to remember that when I finish the first draft and go back.”
It struck me that all writing advice is actually revision advice.
I’ve been publishing novels since 2016 and writing since I was, I dunno seven, but I still remember the first time writing advice sky-rocketed my practice.
So here’s me, a college student about halfway through a useless creative writing degree. The holidays are around the corner and I just want to write, but my family is all “you should study law, teaching, nursing, or all three,” and I’d never even finished a novel. I come across this “challenge” to write 50,000 words in 30 days. NaNoWriMo. Seems crazy. Kind of stupid hard. So of course, I sign up.
A huge part of writing for this challenge is the break-neck speed and the freedom. You cannot have one without the other. If you are going to reach 50,000 words (which is a very short novel) you cannot stop to correct what you wrote the night before, to rearrange chapters, or to doubt your ability to tell the story. The community around NaNoWriMo is incredibly loving of the craft and supportive and I highly recommend this challenge to anyone ready to “quiet their inner editor.”
It was truly transformative for me. While I will always be someone who doesn’t start the story until I know how it ends and writes some form of outline, I will never go back to the dark days of revising as I go. I have fully embraced the idea that “the first draft of anything is shit” (Earnest Hemingway), and also that “the first draft is perfect because all it has to do is exist” (Jane Smiley), and also “when you write you tell yourself a story. When you rewrite you take out everything that is NOT the story.” (Stephen King) and finally, “the first draft is just you telling yourself the story” (Terry Pratchett).
Actually, that last quote is a little simplified. Here’s what Sir Terry actually said:
So what do you do with that sprawling caterpillar? How do you rewrite everything that is NOT the story?
It took me about ten more years before I could figure that out and go on to successfully publish my first novel. I’ve been publishing pretty consistently ever since and I’ve finished some real doorstoppers. When I consider my process today– which I realized while futzing around on Pinterest– what I do after I have the insane monster of a rough draft is I take all that “writing advice” and make it revision advice.
Here are the three biggest mistakes I see new revisers do:
-Revise as they write (often procrastinating on actually writing, then getting discouraged, and if successful ends up with a very uneven draft where the end is rough and the beginning is very polished)
-Finish a draft and then go directly to checking the spelling and grammar without doing any kind of re-read for structure, character, and plot (which is kind of like painting the support beam of a house instead of building the walls. It leaves unfinished work that is now harder to revise because have polished sentences. This is the real Killing your Darlings. Do not recommend this.)
-Try to revise everything all at once (which is damn overwhelming. Very likely you will be discouraged with this “broken” novel that feels outside your skill level, and try to start a brand new shiny first draft which you assume will be perfect).
I’d like to suggest a way to tackle revisions in four parts:
Re-Envisioning
Find and apply advice on clarifying your theme, messaging, and other big-picture story-telling that you only discover when you finish the draft.
Macro
Find and apply advice on characters (arcs, development, consistency), plot (logical flow, motivated action), and structure.
Micro
Find and apply advice on pacing, voice, immersion, paragraph, and everything else.
Line-edits
Find and apply advice on spelling, grammar, prettiness/effectiveness of sentences, and filler words.
Some of these will overlap. Personally, I don’t know how to write a consistent character without thinking about their voice. I know Lane’s sense of pacing is absolutely incredible so he’ll sense any issues on the first read-through, sometimes before he knows the ending (which terrifies me). I don’t know many writers who can read a chapter and not see the sentences that need to be fixed or the misspelled words (and you can correct those as long as it’s easy and not distracting you from whatever real work you’re doing).
My point is put the big rocks (macro) in your aquarium before the sand (micro) and don’t forget to add the water (you know, the point of the story) or you will have dead fish (dead readers? This metaphor might have gotten away from me).
Over the next couple of months, Lane and I are going to be working on a book together. We’re starting in November (NaNoWriMo!) and my plan with this section of the substack is to write about that journey from the opening outline to the finish then through the revisions. If that sounds like something you want to see, make sure you are subscribed, and let us know how this section is working out for you!
And if you’re looking for a professional developmental editor or a book coach, I’m on Fiverr!