Last week I was asked about my self-editing/revision process. I do have a method that works for me, but it’s time-consuming. There is no magic bullet for this.
In some ways, novels are machines. Internally, each book is comprised of many essential components. If one element fails, the story won’t work the way I envision it.
So, what are these parts?
- Characterization,
- Dialogue,
- Mechanics (grammar/punctuation),
- Pacing,
- Plot,
- Prose,
- Theme,
- Transitions.
I began this journey knowing nothing about how a novel is constructed internally. I wanted to write stories, but they never came out the way I saw them in my head.
So, realizing I knew nothing was the first positive thing I did for myself. I made it my business to learn all I could, even though I will never achieve perfection.
Writing is a craft where the bar is raised with every success. Each achievement you make pushes the hope of perfection a bit higher, still just out of reach.
But I won’t stop trying.
As an editor, I’ve seen every kind of mistake you can imagine. This tendency to not see the flaws in our own work is why I have an editor. I can see the places that need work in your manuscript but need someone with a critical eye to see my work.
When prepping a novel to send to my editor, I use a three-part method. This requires specific tools that come with Microsoft Word, my word-processing program. I feel sure these tools are available for Google Docs and every other word-processing program.
Phase one: the initial read-through. Once I have completed the revisions suggested by my beta readers, this stage is put into action. After considering their suggestions and revising the manuscript, it looks finished. But it has only just begun the journey.
In Microsoft Word, on the Review Tab, I access the Read Aloud function and begin reading along with the mechanical voice. Yes, it’s annoying and doesn’t always pronounce things right, but this first tool shows me many places that need rewriting.
I use this function rather than reading it aloud myself, as I tend to see and read aloud what I think should be there rather than what is.
- I habitually key the word though when I mean through. These are two widely different words but are only one letter apart. Most, but not all, miskeyed words will leap out when you hear them read aloud.
- Most but not all run-on sentences stand out when you hear them read aloud.
- Most but not all inadvertent repetitions also stand out.
- Most of the time, hokey phrasing doesn’t sound as good as you thought it was.
- Most of the time, you hear where you have dropped words because you were keying so fast you skipped over including an article, like “the” or “a” before a noun.
This is a long process that involves a lot of stopping and starting, taking me a week to get through an entire 90,000-word manuscript. I will have trimmed about 3,000 words by the end of phase one. I will have caught many typos and miskeyed words and rewritten many clumsy sentences.
But I am not done.
Phase Two: The Manual Edit
This phase is where I find my punctuation errors most often. I look for and correct punctuation and make notes for any other improvements that must be made. Usually, I cut entire sections, as they are riffs on previously presented ideas. Sometimes they are outright repetitions, which don’t leap out when viewed on the computer screen.
- Open your manuscript. Break it into separate chapters, and make sure each is clearly and consistently labeled. Make certain the chapter numbers are in the proper sequence and don’t skip a number.
- Print out the first chapter. Everything looks different printed out, and you will see many things you don’t notice on the computer screen or hear when it was read aloud.
- Turn to the last page. Cover the page with another sheet of paper, leaving only the final paragraph visible.
- Starting with the final paragraph on the last page, begin reading, working your way forward.
- With a yellow highlighter, mark each place that needs correction.
- Put the corrected chapter on a recipe stand next to your computer. Open your document and begin making the revisions you noted on your hard copy.
This is the phase where I look for info dumps, passive phrasing, and timid words. These telling passages are codes for the author, laid down in the first draft. They are signs that a section needs rewriting to make it visual rather than telling. Clunky phrasing and info dumps are signals telling me what I intend that scene to be. I must cut some of the info and allow the reader to use their imagination.
I will have trimmed about 3,000 more words from my manuscript by the end of phase two.
Phase three is the step that only works if you understand grammar and industry practices. Be aware that understanding context is solely a human function at this stage in our technology.
You may have found that your word processing program has spellcheck and some minor editing assists. Spellcheck is notorious for both helping and hindering you. It may or may not alert you to an obvious error.
- There, their, they’re.
- To, too, two.
- Its, it’s.
In this third phase, I go over each chapter using Grammarly. I have also used ProWriting Aid. Each program has strengths and weaknesses. There are several other programs available to writers, but I have only tried these two.
Editing programs operate on algorithms and don’t understand context. I am wary of relying on Grammarly or ProWriting Aid for anything other than alerting you to possible problems. If you blindly obey every suggestion made by editing programs, you will turn your manuscript into a mess.
If your knowledge of punctuation is sketchy, don’t feel alone. By the time we begin writing as adults, most of us have forgotten whatever grammar we once knew. If this is your case, your best bet is to avoid these costly programs.
It takes far less money to invest in a book like the Chicago Guide to Grammar, Usage, and Punctuation and learn how grammar works.
Good editing software is expensive. For my specific needs, it has been a worthwhile investment. If you choose to invest in some, use common sense when reviewing the program’s suggestions.
My three-part self-editing process can take more than a month. When I’ve finished, I’ll have a manuscript that won’t be full of distractions. I will send it to my editor, and she’ll be able to focus on finding as much of what I have missed as is humanly possible.
And, if you read any books published by the large Traditional publishers, you know that a few mistakes and typos can and will get through despite our careful editing.
We are only human, after all.
Our stories take the reader to exotic places and introduce them to other realities. When we publish a book, we hope it will find a reader on the day they were looking for just such an escape.
I wrote poetry and lyrics for a heavy metal band when I first started out. I was young, sincere, and convinced I had to impart a message with every word. I didn’t know until twenty years later when I came across my old notebook that my poems weren’t honest. Eighteen-year-old me was trying to make a point rather than offering ideas for further thought.
Children are unimpressed by the fact their parents might write a story or play music or paint or do any of the creative arts.
As Ursula K. LeGuin said in her excellent book, 
day, should we so desire. Reading is how we come to understand writing and the art of story. Mr. King also admonishes us to learn the fundamentals of punctuation and grammar.
Every editor will tell you no amount of money is worth the time and effort it would take to teach an author how to write coherent, readable prose. That is what seminars, books on craft, and books on style and grammar are for.
I want to read an honest story about people who seem real, who have the kind of problems we can all relate to on a human level. I want to read a story that comes from an author’s deepest soul. The setting doesn’t matter—it can be set on Mars or in Africa. Characters matter, and their story matters.
Today I am revisiting three wonderful quotes on these rules from 
Actually, my large dirty minivan is not as comfortable to ride in as it used to be. Grandma’s imaginary red Ferrari would be a lot more fun, but alas—if wishes were Ferraris, my driveway would look a lot fancier.
Have you ever wondered why we say fiddle-faddle and not faddle-fiddle? Why is it ping-pong and pitter-patter rather than pong-ping and patter-pitter? Why dribs and drabs rather than vice versa? Why can’t a kitchen be span and spic? Whence riff-raff, mishmash, flim-flam, chit-chat, tit for tat, knick-knack, zig-zag, sing-song, ding-dong, King Kong, criss-cross, shilly-shally, seesaw, hee-haw, flip-flop, hippity-hop, tick-tock, tic-tac-toe, eeny-meeny-miney-moe, bric-a-brac, clickey-clack, hickory-dickory-dock, kit and kaboodle, and bibbity-bobbity-boo? The answer is that the vowels for which the tongue is high and in the front always come before the vowels for which the tongue is low and in the back. (Pinker, The Language Instinct, 1994:167) [3]
Writing fiction allows me to put reality into more palatable chunks. It’s easier to cope with that way.
We all draw inspiration from real life, whether consciously or not. However, if we are writing fiction, we must never detail people we are acquainted with, even if we change their names.
The best thing is that you don’t actually know a thing about them other than they like a Double Tall Hazelnut Latte. Peoples’ conversations are unguarded in coffee shops, openly talking about what moves them or holds them back. They are lovers or haters, quiet or loud, and most importantly, anonymous.
Several years ago, I read a fantasy book where the author clearly spent many hours on the food of her fantasy world and the various animals. She gave each kind of fruit, bird, or herd beast a different, usually unpronounceable, name in the language of her fantasy culture.
As many of you know, I have been vegan since 2012. However, during the 1980s, my second ex-husband and I raised sheep. Most of the meat we served in our home was raised on his family’s communal farm. Our chickens and rabbits roamed their yard and had good lives, and our family’s herd of twenty sheep was managed using simple, old-style farming methods.
Knowing what to feed your people keeps you from introducing jarring components into your narrative. In 
Let’s look at both the meanings and synonyms for the word consequences.
In the morning, after the unexpected (and unwanted) guests leave, he has two choices, to stay in the safety of Bag End, or hare off on a journey into the unknown. He chooses to run after the dwarves, and so begins the real story—how a respectable hobbit became a burglar and became a hero in the process.
The blade does not acquire its name until later in the adventure, after Bilbo, lost in the forest of Mirkwood, uses it to kill a giant spider and rescue the Dwarves. This is when Bilbo’s decisions become more thoughtful, and his courageous side begins to emerge.
This is an excellent time to look at the freedom we give our characters to act and react within the story. I have mentioned many times that I am a plotter. However, when I am in the process of writing the first draft of a novel, the characters sometimes take over. The plot veers far from what I had intended when I began writing it.
This happens because my work is character-driven, and sometimes, they’re like demolition derby drivers.
This is called giving your characters “agency.” Agency is an integral aspect of the craft of writing. It means that you allow your characters to make decisions that don’t necessarily follow the original plot outline. This gives them a chance to become real, the way 
No matter how they respond, they will be placed in situations where they have no choice but to go forward. After all, I am their creator, the deity of their universe. I have an outline that predestines them to specific fates, and nothing they can do will stop that train.
Life in the Realm of Fantasy 
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