Reframing the Revision Process

Or: Finding joy in revising

We’ve all seen it at the movies or in a Hallmark drama. The dramatic conclusion where the struggling writer finally ties up all the loose ends and completes their story. The music swells and, with fingers flying, the actor clacks out those fateful words on the typewriter (it’s always a typewriter)THE END. Whew. Cheer. Roll the credits.

It happened to me last week! Too bad the cameras weren’t rolling, though I was on my computer and couldn’t yank a paper out and wave it in the air like they do in the movies. And, truth be told, I didn’t really type THE END, but I completed the last chapter of my third book! Ta Da! (picture me doing a little dance) Now if only I could put a link at the bottom of this post (along with its sister titles CRAYON BOX and UNTIL ITALY) and send my story out into the world along with its sister titles CRAYON BOX and UNTIL ITALY.

But no. What the movies don’t show is that the writer probably just completed what Anne Lamott calls the “shitty first draft.” I don’t especially like that term, perferring rough, unpolished, first draft, but you get the idea. A year in the making and that’s what I currently have. Now what?

Revision

This used to be my least favorite part of the writing process. When I first began to write, I preferred the start, getting the ideas down on paper, and watching the story unfold, then I wanted to be done. But some famous authors have helped me change my attitude towards revision.

Maggie Smith (poet and author of Dear Writer) reminds us that the word revision literally means “to see again” and it’s her favorite part of the writing process. Once the first draft is done, it’s her chance to look at it with fresh eyes, get at all the essential parts of the piece, maybe even take it in an entirely different direction. Whoa! That has already happened. My story is taking me places I hadn’t expected.

Stephen King (On Writing) explains that when you write your first draft, you are telling yourself the story. When you revise (or look again) your job is to take out all the things that are not the story. A little scary, Stephen. What if there’s nothing left? But I get it. I’m going to trust that my story won’t vanish into thin air and that what is left will be its true spirit.

Thinking of writers as artists, Rick Rubin (The Creative Act) refers to revision as curating your work. As curator, you decide what is included , what is not, and how it is all displayed in the final presentation. A curated work. I love this vision.

And a good friend recently told me “The hard part is done, now you get to play with it.” Perfect! What I once viewed as work can actually be my author’s playground!

So now, to step back, see my work with fresh eyes, take out all the things that are not the story, and curate the rest so my words comes to life just the way I want them to. And play.

Oh, this is going to be fun!