Thoughts on developing what you want to write about, and judging whether or not it is good enough. Plus a small tool to help you out. (click image).
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This post is the third of three dealing with approaching the problem of sizeable revisions. The first post offered some straightforward methods to help you tackle the problem. The second took a more whimsical approach. Here, the final post in the series, is writer and freelance editor Mackenzie Minnick’s opinion on handling developmental problems. All three posts will go up the same day.
This material also appears, with a slightly different introduction, on my substack: “Do you know where YOUR story is?”
You’ve taken the big step of completing your first draft. Maybe you even have a couple readers who have taken a look and provided some feedback. But now, you’re tasked with revision, and you don’t know how or where to start. The feedback doesn’t directly tell you anything, and the suggestions the readers had don’t work for what’s in your head. What do you do?
You need to treat your draft like you are a doctor and the book is your patient. A patient doesn’t visit the GP and have the doctor immediately schedule a gallbladder surgery. Instead, ask your book questions. Diagnose the exact problem, and work out a treatment plan.
Start out with your feedback. Where do the problems appear to reside? What are the symptoms? Even vague responses of “I didn’t get this” can be helpful. I often discard my reader’s direct suggestions of “What if your character did this instead” in favor of “I’m confused as to why your character didn’t perform this action.” This means either I did not characterize my protagonist correctly, or that I didn’t build the surrounding events to make that choice realistic.
Once I have the problem diagnosed, fixing it should seem relatively straightforward. “I need to build up my character’s flaw so that this inaction seems reasonable” “I need to change the response my character has” “This scene needs to be removed”. As with all aspects of writing, remain flexible. You may hit upon a solution that is messy to implement, but strengthens the piece overall.
Here’s a short list of questions to ask yourself as you go through.
The next three posts will deal with approaching the problem of sizeable revisions. This post will offer some straightforward methods to help you tackle the problem. For the more whimsical approach, continue on to the next post. And for the professional’s opinion on handling developmental problems, please check out the post after that. All three posts will go up on the same day.
This material also appears, with a slightly different introduction, on my substack:: “Do you know where YOUR story is?”
Revision is difficult. No writer will dispute that. It is, however, a completely necessary evil. Our writing suffers, even dies without it.
Handling things like grammar, spelling, punctuation, the occasional awkward word or sentence is easy. Deciding to eliminate words you’ve already labored over is difficult. And doing wholesale re-writes, changes, and adjustments feels absolutely impossible. It isn’t.
Once you have reached the conclusion that segments need to be either reworded or replaced, you need to stop and identify both what the actual problems with the current words are and how they need to be replaced. (See my guest’s upcoming post on how to analyze and develop your story revisions.)
When you have done the analysis and at least some of your new material is ready, it’s time to face the page and dig in. This is where it breaks down for so many writers and results in so many days of hiding in bed, taking long walks, cleaning the garage or simply drinking the comforting beverage of your choice by the gallon. I have faced this same paralysis, and while I don’t have a perfect remedy, I’ve figured out a few things that help in getting–and keeping– going on this task.
Step #1: Getting your words ready.
Whether you do this as a standalone task or tackle it by working within your manuscript, start with fixing the obvious. What will replace the words you/your editor/your reader/critique group have decided need to go? Everything else will depend on getting this set. It may be improving a description, changing dialogue, even laying out a new plotline with all that entails.
Take your time. Plot carefully so as to disrupt as few other passages as possible–but make sure you are happy with the new material. The point is to improve your manuscript, and skimping on new material to save time… won’t. It won’t save agony either. Put as much in print as you can, and make sure there’s a special storage place in your brain for the potential things you’ll need to add/change.
Step #2: Locating relevant scenes and passages.
Check your manuscript carefully for anything related to the offending passage(s). This is where search functions are so handy. Look for words that ONLY go with the material to be changed. An easy example is a name change, which can usually be accomplished entirely with FIND AND REPLACE. If you’re not changing a name, searching out a character’s name can still help you find much of the related material, especially if the action centers around that character. Using DOCUMENT MAP (MSWord) when you write helps, as that can track chapters and other headlines.
Changes have repercussions, so any succeeding passages that relate will need to be adjusted based on the new material. This also applies to ‘set-up’ sections that precede the segment that is being revised. Highlight them, underline them, copy them out–use whatever organizational process works for you, but make sure you don’t miss any.
Step #3: Take-down and build-up.
This next step is somewhat personal. For some writers, seeing the words written on the page makes them immutable. Others like to leave them on the page as a sort of reference. Personally, most of the time I’m in the first group. So when I’m having to replace content, I completely remove it, but I copy it over to another document–just in case. With open space, my brain is free to focus on the new material and where it will lead me. You may choose to write differently, keeping the old material on the page so you can cannibalize it as you write.
The joy of doing this hard work is that as you tackle it, new ideas arise and come together like puzzle pieces. You see the improvements as they hit the page. Something clicks when you get the right words in place. And the new ideas that sprout up will make your manuscript even better.
Now the related material needs to be coordinated with what was just written. I tend to start by backing up to preceding material, the set-up scenes. When a change is made there, it will create its own ripples that will need follow-up. It may affect more things than just what you’ve re-written. Taking care of these makes this step more complicated than dealing with the material that comes after your big change. When you go on to deal with the ramifications that cascade from the changes, working through them will be a little more straightforward. Granted, things can all get a little gnarled up, but working through them makes the writing stronger.
This is not the only way to deal with large revisions. Every writer develops their own preferred technique, often accompanied by pretzels or chips, beer or tea, or even a huge bowl of grapes. Some do yoga between rewrites, or take a break for a walk in the yard. You get the idea. The important thing is to find a technique that works for you. You don’t want to be held from crossing the finish line because you are overwhelmed by revision work. Knowing you have a method that lets you face the task with relative comfort sets you up to deal with the writing with confidence.
