TWP Part 3: Rewriting (I'm gonna Get Hate Mail)
Ugh. That's what I have to say about rewriting. UGH.
You've probably heard this piece of 'wisdom' before: every story needs to be revised several times to make it good. Without it, the writing is too rough, too imperfect to be presented to the market.
I bought into this idea for years. My first blog post talks about the writing process being like forging, where heat and pressure need to be applied to the work to turn it into something presentable.
UGH.
I wish I could just go back, delete it and pretend I never wrote that. But I won't. It's going to stay there as a reminder of the time I bought into this idiot myth hook, line and sinker.
Some people view rewrites as essential, and make it work for them. They're not going to get a fair shake in this post, because I believe that the rewriting myth is detrimental to the majority of writers. I'm going to be a raging jerk in this post because I believe that the myth of rewriting needed to die a bloody, gruesome death eons ago, and I will gleefully hammer every last nail into its coffin if I'm able.
Hopefully I can convince some people to think about the myth. Rewriting might work for them in the end, but they should be the ones choosing it because it works, not because that's what they're supposed to do.
So here we go.
1. The Myth
The myth of rewriting is pretty straightforward, and it seems logical to outside observers and new writers. After all, they think, your first attempt is never going to be your best. It needs examination to identify the weak spots, and then it needs modification in order to correct those flaws. We're taught that from an early age. Remember all those drafts you had to do in English class? We're told that in order to put our best foot forward, we need to shine every detail.
And that myth extends into fiction. The idea of revision is pushed onto us from every angle. Your work needs to be revised for grammar. It needs to be revised so the plot runs smoothly. The sentence structure needs to be revised so it reads correctly.
Revise, revise revise. You might spend a month or two writing, but you need to spend more time than that revising it into something worthwhile.
2. Rewriting vs. Copyediting
I need to clarify one thing before I continue. Rewriting and copyediting are two very different things.
Copyediting is the process of cleaning up the manuscript, checking it for typos, basic grammar errors and other small fixes, like a certain detail being off. It makes no significant changes to the story's structure or plot.
Rewriting involves making wholesale changes to the story, whether that's changing characters, messing with scenes or adding or subtracting passages. It fundamentally changes the piece.
Copyediting is critical, make no mistake, and every writer needs to have it done to their manuscript. But rewriting? That's a whole different animal.
3. Why Rewriting is Harmful
I believe that, in the majority of cases, rewriting is actively detrimental to the quality of a writer's work.
Why?
This goes back to part 2 of this series. Writers need to have the creative part of their brain engaged while they're writing. It's how they come up with their best ideas, and it's why they enjoy the art.
But conventional wisdom holds that the creative mind needs to be tempered by a critical analysis of your work. The flaws need to be smoothed out, and that over-eagerness needs to be reigned in by good sense.
Conventional wisdom is WRONG.
When you start revising, you switch from the creative side of your brain to the critical side. It starts grasping at anything and everything that can get its hands on. Is the grammar right? Does this word/sentence/paragraph/chapter need to be here? Are the voices of the characters coming through? Question, after question, after question.
And you know what? Those questions make us cringe. They make us cringe because they're critical of the work that we've spent hours investing ourselves into. They make us question whether we can do better.
But writers are the worst people to judge their own work, especially from a critical aspect. While some grade too easily, most are far too harsh on themselves, because they can only see the negatives. It's just how the human brain works.
And that criticism can be costly.
4. The Destructive Nature of Rewriting
Let me use a metaphor as illustration. Pretend, for a moment, that writing is cooking. You prepare the ingredients, combine them together and create a dish.
Copyediting is the garnish on the dish. It adds flair and makes the dish appealing, but it never changes its fundamental nature.
Rewriting is the equivalent of switching several ingredients out at the last minute. It fundamentally changes the nature of the dish, and in most cases it creates an unappetizing mess.
5. Let It Die
One of the most destructive aspects of the rewriting myth is the fact that it keeps things alive that should have been dead and buried long ago.
It goes something like this: a writer has an extremely flawed piece of work that's fundamentally broken in some way. But they revise it, and they keep telling themselves if they work at it just a little more, it will turn into something good. Somehow, in some way.
Sorry people, it ain't happening. Once a story is broken, there's no way to fix it. The best you can do is to throw out the draft and start fresh from the very beginning. Harsh? Yes, it is, but it's what needs to be done.
Remember that 1st novel I mentioned in part 2? I wasted nearly 5 years of my life on that thing. I revised, I tinkered and hammered, trying to shape it into something good. But that never happened, because it was broken from the start.
If your story is broken, let it die and try again. And take the lessons that you learned from writing it to heart. No writing is worthless if you learned something from it.
6. Writing Groups, aka the Wolves in Sheep's Clothing.
If I haven't made people mad yet, this is probably going to be the thing that sets them off. Oh well.
To be clear, I have nothing against writing groups. They're great, actually. They provide writers with a social circle that knows what they're going through. They provide a number of different perspectives and techniques on writing, which is invaluable.
What they're not good at is providing useful criticism for your story.
OK, I should probably clarify that as well. The criticism of a writing group is, in fact useful. It's useful for identifying the areas you need to work on, and the areas that you're strong in. For your next piece, that is.
But for a current work, the advice of a writing group is actively detrimental, especially when the writer starts making changes because of them. Why?
Because people have diverse opinions. What someone hates someone else may love. Look at how well Twilight sold despite its vocal hatedom.
If your writing group collectively identifies a major flaw in your work, it's probably fundamentally broken. Refer back to point 5. But if it's different people pointing out different things, that's just taste coming into play. Don't undermine your writing by caving to them.
If you do, you've ceded control of your work. You've gone from writing your story to design-by-committee.
And to me, that's tragic.
7. You've Created a Monster
To me, the most tragic thing about the rewriting myth is what it does to writers and their work.
You can hear writers talk about it all the time. They use terms like 'struggle', or agonize' to describe revising their work. They 'soul-search' over whether or not to add or delete a passage. The melodrama is off the charts.
I'd laugh, if it wasn't so gut-wrenchingly tragic.
You know why revisions hurt so much? It's because, when you revise, you're mutilating the story that your creative mind produced. You know, that creative mind that I talked about in part 2. The one that knows how to structure a story, and takes joy in getting lost inside the world it's creating.
Let me say it again to make it clear: you're not polishing your work when you're revising it. You're mutilating it. You're hacking off parts and sewing others back on, and you're left with a Frankenstein monster that's not even your original story anymore.
I can't even look at my first novel at this point. For how awful it was to begin with, the revisions have twisted it so badly that I can't even recognize the inspiration it came from anymore.
Don't make that mistake.
8. Trust Yourself
So why does the revision myth exist? I have a theory.
For me, the revision myth is a safe haven for writers. It allows them to shield themselves from the harsh spotlight. It gives the an excuse to not put their work out there for the world to see. They're afraid of the quirks, the blemishes and the rough edges. They're afraid of what people might think of that. I was in that boat not too long ago myself.
But the blemishes, the rough edge, the quirks, those are what make our stories come alive. No work is perfect. But readers want a story, warts and all. Those are the parts that stick out. Those are the parts that make the world come alive, the ones that make the world of the story feel genuine. A 'perfect' story is sterile, homogenous and dull. As a reader, give me those quirks any day.
It really comes down to confidence. Readers need to learn how to trust their creative voice, and trust that it can build a story. That is what makes a great story. No amount of rewriting will ever come close to touching what the creative mind is capable of.
Many writers will say "I'm not sure," or "my creative mind isn't ready to do this," or "it's too risky". I have one question for those people:
Why are you even bothering to write?
Why are you even doing this? Don't you have the confidence that you , the writer, can tell a story like no one else? Don't you trust your own mind? Your creativity? Don't you want to be great? To shoot for the stars?
If you can't, my suggestion to you is to walk away from writing right now. Trust me, it's not worth the miserable slog you'll drag yourself through every day of revisions.
9. In Conclusion.
In my experience, revision is a soul-sucking mess that strips writing of almost all its pleasure. I went through it over the course of five years, and I quit writing because of it.
When I came back, I threw it all away. I took the rulebook, and I tossed it. I learned to put my trust in my creative voice. And I'm happier every day for it.
It's stunning, in fact. I didn't know how much sheer joy i was missing until I took the leap. What kind of joy? I'll cover that in part 4.
And hopefully this myth stays dead and buried.
*Drives the last nail into the coffin.*
You've probably heard this piece of 'wisdom' before: every story needs to be revised several times to make it good. Without it, the writing is too rough, too imperfect to be presented to the market.
I bought into this idea for years. My first blog post talks about the writing process being like forging, where heat and pressure need to be applied to the work to turn it into something presentable.
UGH.
I wish I could just go back, delete it and pretend I never wrote that. But I won't. It's going to stay there as a reminder of the time I bought into this idiot myth hook, line and sinker.
Some people view rewrites as essential, and make it work for them. They're not going to get a fair shake in this post, because I believe that the rewriting myth is detrimental to the majority of writers. I'm going to be a raging jerk in this post because I believe that the myth of rewriting needed to die a bloody, gruesome death eons ago, and I will gleefully hammer every last nail into its coffin if I'm able.
Hopefully I can convince some people to think about the myth. Rewriting might work for them in the end, but they should be the ones choosing it because it works, not because that's what they're supposed to do.
So here we go.
1. The Myth
The myth of rewriting is pretty straightforward, and it seems logical to outside observers and new writers. After all, they think, your first attempt is never going to be your best. It needs examination to identify the weak spots, and then it needs modification in order to correct those flaws. We're taught that from an early age. Remember all those drafts you had to do in English class? We're told that in order to put our best foot forward, we need to shine every detail.
And that myth extends into fiction. The idea of revision is pushed onto us from every angle. Your work needs to be revised for grammar. It needs to be revised so the plot runs smoothly. The sentence structure needs to be revised so it reads correctly.
Revise, revise revise. You might spend a month or two writing, but you need to spend more time than that revising it into something worthwhile.
2. Rewriting vs. Copyediting
I need to clarify one thing before I continue. Rewriting and copyediting are two very different things.
Copyediting is the process of cleaning up the manuscript, checking it for typos, basic grammar errors and other small fixes, like a certain detail being off. It makes no significant changes to the story's structure or plot.
Rewriting involves making wholesale changes to the story, whether that's changing characters, messing with scenes or adding or subtracting passages. It fundamentally changes the piece.
Copyediting is critical, make no mistake, and every writer needs to have it done to their manuscript. But rewriting? That's a whole different animal.
3. Why Rewriting is Harmful
I believe that, in the majority of cases, rewriting is actively detrimental to the quality of a writer's work.
Why?
This goes back to part 2 of this series. Writers need to have the creative part of their brain engaged while they're writing. It's how they come up with their best ideas, and it's why they enjoy the art.
But conventional wisdom holds that the creative mind needs to be tempered by a critical analysis of your work. The flaws need to be smoothed out, and that over-eagerness needs to be reigned in by good sense.
Conventional wisdom is WRONG.
When you start revising, you switch from the creative side of your brain to the critical side. It starts grasping at anything and everything that can get its hands on. Is the grammar right? Does this word/sentence/paragraph/chapter need to be here? Are the voices of the characters coming through? Question, after question, after question.
And you know what? Those questions make us cringe. They make us cringe because they're critical of the work that we've spent hours investing ourselves into. They make us question whether we can do better.
But writers are the worst people to judge their own work, especially from a critical aspect. While some grade too easily, most are far too harsh on themselves, because they can only see the negatives. It's just how the human brain works.
And that criticism can be costly.
4. The Destructive Nature of Rewriting
Let me use a metaphor as illustration. Pretend, for a moment, that writing is cooking. You prepare the ingredients, combine them together and create a dish.
Copyediting is the garnish on the dish. It adds flair and makes the dish appealing, but it never changes its fundamental nature.
Rewriting is the equivalent of switching several ingredients out at the last minute. It fundamentally changes the nature of the dish, and in most cases it creates an unappetizing mess.
5. Let It Die
One of the most destructive aspects of the rewriting myth is the fact that it keeps things alive that should have been dead and buried long ago.
It goes something like this: a writer has an extremely flawed piece of work that's fundamentally broken in some way. But they revise it, and they keep telling themselves if they work at it just a little more, it will turn into something good. Somehow, in some way.
Sorry people, it ain't happening. Once a story is broken, there's no way to fix it. The best you can do is to throw out the draft and start fresh from the very beginning. Harsh? Yes, it is, but it's what needs to be done.
Remember that 1st novel I mentioned in part 2? I wasted nearly 5 years of my life on that thing. I revised, I tinkered and hammered, trying to shape it into something good. But that never happened, because it was broken from the start.
If your story is broken, let it die and try again. And take the lessons that you learned from writing it to heart. No writing is worthless if you learned something from it.
6. Writing Groups, aka the Wolves in Sheep's Clothing.
If I haven't made people mad yet, this is probably going to be the thing that sets them off. Oh well.
To be clear, I have nothing against writing groups. They're great, actually. They provide writers with a social circle that knows what they're going through. They provide a number of different perspectives and techniques on writing, which is invaluable.
What they're not good at is providing useful criticism for your story.
OK, I should probably clarify that as well. The criticism of a writing group is, in fact useful. It's useful for identifying the areas you need to work on, and the areas that you're strong in. For your next piece, that is.
But for a current work, the advice of a writing group is actively detrimental, especially when the writer starts making changes because of them. Why?
Because people have diverse opinions. What someone hates someone else may love. Look at how well Twilight sold despite its vocal hatedom.
If your writing group collectively identifies a major flaw in your work, it's probably fundamentally broken. Refer back to point 5. But if it's different people pointing out different things, that's just taste coming into play. Don't undermine your writing by caving to them.
If you do, you've ceded control of your work. You've gone from writing your story to design-by-committee.
And to me, that's tragic.
7. You've Created a Monster
To me, the most tragic thing about the rewriting myth is what it does to writers and their work.
You can hear writers talk about it all the time. They use terms like 'struggle', or agonize' to describe revising their work. They 'soul-search' over whether or not to add or delete a passage. The melodrama is off the charts.
I'd laugh, if it wasn't so gut-wrenchingly tragic.
You know why revisions hurt so much? It's because, when you revise, you're mutilating the story that your creative mind produced. You know, that creative mind that I talked about in part 2. The one that knows how to structure a story, and takes joy in getting lost inside the world it's creating.
Let me say it again to make it clear: you're not polishing your work when you're revising it. You're mutilating it. You're hacking off parts and sewing others back on, and you're left with a Frankenstein monster that's not even your original story anymore.
I can't even look at my first novel at this point. For how awful it was to begin with, the revisions have twisted it so badly that I can't even recognize the inspiration it came from anymore.
Don't make that mistake.
8. Trust Yourself
So why does the revision myth exist? I have a theory.
For me, the revision myth is a safe haven for writers. It allows them to shield themselves from the harsh spotlight. It gives the an excuse to not put their work out there for the world to see. They're afraid of the quirks, the blemishes and the rough edges. They're afraid of what people might think of that. I was in that boat not too long ago myself.
But the blemishes, the rough edge, the quirks, those are what make our stories come alive. No work is perfect. But readers want a story, warts and all. Those are the parts that stick out. Those are the parts that make the world come alive, the ones that make the world of the story feel genuine. A 'perfect' story is sterile, homogenous and dull. As a reader, give me those quirks any day.
It really comes down to confidence. Readers need to learn how to trust their creative voice, and trust that it can build a story. That is what makes a great story. No amount of rewriting will ever come close to touching what the creative mind is capable of.
Many writers will say "I'm not sure," or "my creative mind isn't ready to do this," or "it's too risky". I have one question for those people:
Why are you even bothering to write?
Why are you even doing this? Don't you have the confidence that you , the writer, can tell a story like no one else? Don't you trust your own mind? Your creativity? Don't you want to be great? To shoot for the stars?
If you can't, my suggestion to you is to walk away from writing right now. Trust me, it's not worth the miserable slog you'll drag yourself through every day of revisions.
9. In Conclusion.
In my experience, revision is a soul-sucking mess that strips writing of almost all its pleasure. I went through it over the course of five years, and I quit writing because of it.
When I came back, I threw it all away. I took the rulebook, and I tossed it. I learned to put my trust in my creative voice. And I'm happier every day for it.
It's stunning, in fact. I didn't know how much sheer joy i was missing until I took the leap. What kind of joy? I'll cover that in part 4.
And hopefully this myth stays dead and buried.
*Drives the last nail into the coffin.*
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