The last thing many authors want to do when they finish the first draft of a book is go back to the beginning and dive in again. But that’s what it takes (usually more than once) to produce a book you can be proud of.
Revising is many things. At the conceptual level:
- It’s what an author owes her audience
- It’s what separates an amateur from a professional
- It’s what makes an okay book good, and a good book great
At the technical level, a first revision should tackle big issues, including:
- Determining whether there are structural issues that may require major reworking of the plot, characters, or point of view
- Getting rid of the parts that aren’t necessary and only slow down the pace
- Fixing the bits that aren’t working properly
- Catching and fixing inconsistencies and filling gaps
When the big issues are taken care of, it’s time to go back and do it again, this time on a line by line basis. The goal in this pass (and likely through several more cycles, if you’re like me) is to make sure that every sentence can stand on its own as a piece of good writing, and that in conjunction with its surrounding text is moving the story forward in an effective fashion.
Successful revision, however, is much more than that, and a topic far too large to cover in a single blog entry – or even a year’s worth. Indeed, if you decide to read up on the subject (and doing so is very worthwhile), you’ll find that the list of books dedicated entirely to the that subject is almost endless. The books you find will vary greatly, from general to genre-specific, from focus on grammar, to structure, to finer points of literary fiction technique and much more.
If it seems hard to believe that so much can be written on a single topic, let’s use a book I’m reading now by way of example. It’s titled Revising Fiction, by David Madden. The multiple subtitles are “A handbook for writers; 185 Practical Techniques for Improving your Story or Novel.”
And in fact each of the 185 points that Madden explores is valid and worth paying attention to. Many will be familiar; others you may have never identified before, but will recognize from your own reading experience; and some will be totally new, despite the fact they’ve been working their magic in subtle fashion from beneath the surface of books you’ve been reading for years.
My one criticism of this particular book is that the author for some inexplicable reason chose to raise each point in the negative rather than the positive, as in: “Have you committed grammatical errors?” (#44), “Does your style lack economy?” (#48), “Does your story lack the enhancements of figurative language?” (#119). Just reading the table of contents is enough to convince you that you’ve been a very bad boy indeed.
But I digress (violating technique 90, by the way). The point is that there are myriad ways in which a first draft may need to be corrected, and as many more that can be used to improve it. Completing the first task is what any author should regard as a duty they owe to their readers. Undertaking the second is what differentiates an author from a mere story teller.
From this perspective, becoming better at revising is almost synonymous with becoming a better writer, and taking that lesson to heart can make the concept of starting over more tolerable. You may even find (as I do), that there is a great deal of satisfaction to be taken from the pure craftsmanship of fixing sentences. And indeed, writing and perfecting sentences is where good writing must begin.
Without good sentences, all is lost. It’s easy to lose sight of that fact among the welter of advice you can find that focuses on plot, pace, points of view and all of the other important aspects of good writing. And yet the fact remains that a book that lacks pleasing sentences will always irritate the reader and undermine all of the other efforts the author as poured into their work.
Learning about revising needn’t be tedious. Not surprisingly, many good writers have written on the topic, either specifically or in the course of writing memoirs. A very popular and well-reviewed example on my to-read list is Steven King’s On Writing: a Memoir of the Craft.
A similarly themed book that I have read and enjoyed more than once is John Jerome’s The Writing Trade: A Year in the Life (Viking, 1992; Lyons and Burford, 1995). It’s unfortunately out of print and unavailable as an eBook, but may be available at your library. Besides providing good advice, it also chronicles the idyllic, and now ended, era when a solid, mid-list author could spend an enjoyable career behind a keyboard, largely free of the need to write to a formula, or to spend more time on social media than on their next book.
Perhaps the last thing to note at this very high and introductory level is that revision is no substitute for third-party editing. Indeed, they go hand in hand. And that’s where we’ll pick up next time.
Find the first entry in this series here.
Liked, “becoming better at revising is almost synonymous with becoming a better writer” –
Though often reluctant, I’ve found myself “getting into” my story more on revisions. Usually adding more than I cut, but almost always finding something to nip 🙂
For me, it seems to be about adding or cutting yet always maintaining or improving the flow. Like a dance step or piece of music. When I do pull that off, it’s a treat for myself as much as for my hoped-for potential reader!
Nice series, Andy, thanks!
Thanks, Adan. And indeed, I think that you pulled that off very nicely in your latest book.
Revising can be fun and the hardest part at the same time. I always dread starting the first revision, but once I get started, I enjoy some of the things I read, and I can really see what things are working or aren’t.
You can’t just revise once, and that’s where it gets hard for me. My third revision, I started getting anxious, practically knowing what the next sentence will say before getting there. But it has to be done.
I find it best to take a break . . . I mean a month or two off. Go back, start revising again. Works for me anyways.
Great post. Revising does make you a better writer. I love that line too 🙂
I very much have the same observation. If I let something sit for a month, suddenly awkwardnesses and problems with flow jump out at me that had been invisible before. Even then, as you say, there comes a point where you’re so close to the manuscript that you’ve gotten to the limit of what you can do on your own. Which, of course, is one of the many reasons why an editor is essential to get the best result.
One of the interesting aspects of the Madden book I mention above is that uses examples of the sequential revisions of famous authors’ books. Many anyone would recognize continued to revise and tinker with their works throughout their careers, never being completely satisfied.
Thanks for dropping by, and best of luck finishing up and launching the book you’re revising and describing at your own blog.
And yet another inspiring post, Andrew. As always, you touch on so many areas in the writing process beyond your chosen topic. If ever there’s a post to take me to Twitter, then surely this is it? Heartfelt thanks (again)!
You are much too kind, Marcus. On the topic of editing, by the way, I was extremely impressed with the professionalism and polish of your book, The Bomb Makers, and have been meaning to get in touch with you about the editors you worked with. As I’m getting to the point where I need to engage an editor, I’d love to learn more about them. If you have time, I’d love to connect with you by email on that topic.
Of course, Andrew. It’ll be a pleasure. I’ll drop you a line.
A great post, Andrew. Thank you!
Thanks, Ramona.
If only all of our words came out perfectly the first time…or the second…or the third!
Ah yes – of course, that’s where that fourth round of revisions comes in. Then your all done (I promise).
Andrew, hope you had a good holiday, and hope I’m not getting off topic, but a question just popped into my head. Have you ever had a suggestion from an editor or someone you’re working with, where you affirmatively believed, “Hey, wait a minute, I disagree with said editor’s suggestion and I’m not going to go in that direction!”
Not really that often, at least not as an adult. I remember when I was writing occasionally for my college paper, my editorials went through with little change, but my concert reviews got beaten up pretty badly by the music editor, and I was mightily offended.
As I began to write more seriously as an adult, I became much more aware of the value of having an editor, and envious of those that had the luxury of working with one. The first time I wrote a peer-reviewed academic article, my first reaction was “what a pain” reading the reviewers comments, but my second reaction was, “Hmm. There’s somethings I didn’t know,” and it was a great learning experience.
Most of that writing I’ve done since then is here (about equal to ten books worth, or maybe half again that much): http://www.consortiuminfo.org/ and I haven’t had the benefit of an editor for any of it; hopefully it doesn’t show too badly.
So I guess my answer would be as long as I have the right to make the final decisions, I’d take the help of an editor any day, be glad for all of the comments, and take each of them seriously before I sometimes disagreed, because even if I rejected it, I would probably learn something from their thoughts.
The same goes for reviews, by the way, except for the gratuitous hatchet jobs, and I’ve been lucky enough not to get one of those yet out of 56 for my first book.