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Writing Craft

The Art of Editing TVJM

4 min read
Crumpled paper sitting on top of stack of books.
Apparently, all writing is rewriting Photo by Tima Miroshnichenko (opens in new tab)

The Importance of Revision

“I’m done!”
(Me, First draft completion, 18 months ago.)

When I typed the last sentence of my first draft, I felt like I was on top of the world. I had finished! But, as many writers know, that’s only the beginning. After setting the manuscript aside for a few weeks and revisiting it with fresh eyes—armed with my trusty red pen—I found countless errors. Misspellings, name swaps (yes, I called my main character by the wrong name a few times), and a few plot holes that seemed small at first but quickly multiplied.

It became clear that editing was going to take a while. I tossed aside the red pen and broke out the black, revising character sheets, fleshing out outlines, and tackling my notes. After a thorough round of self-editing, I was feeling good.

Enter: The Developmental Editor

Feeling confident, I sent my manuscript off to a developmental editor, thinking the hard part was over. I was wrong. The editor returned over 2000 comments. Two thousand. I wasn’t devastated—okay, maybe a little—but mostly, I was ready to learn. There were major lessons to absorb, particularly about point of view and the mechanics of storytelling on the page.

Incorporating the editor’s feedback took months. Most of it wasn’t about fixing sentences — it was about understanding why they didn’t work in the first place. When I finally finished that phase, the manuscript was noticeably better.

The Beta Reader Feedback Loop

Next step: Beta readers. These early readers offer fresh eyes and unfiltered feedback, and I trusted mine to be brutally honest. And honest they were! Six readers returned the manuscript to me, and it was swathed in red ink. The plot was solid, the tension high, but my prose? Well, that was a different story. I had stripped it down to be as minimalistic as possible, hoping to keep readers focused on the conspiracy and mystery.

What I learned from my Beta readers was this: asking people to engage with such minimalistic prose was like inviting them to a dinner party in a house without furniture. They couldn’t enjoy the meal (the plot) because they didn’t have anywhere to sit (the context, the prose, the depth).

Don’t get me wrong—people enjoyed the story. One reader even said, “I would read 11-14 more of these,” which was incredibly encouraging! But I knew I had to make the story more readable, more immersive. The prose needed to be a smoother ride so readers could focus on the plot without getting tripped up.

Less Minimal, More Impactful

With the Beta feedback in hand, I went back to the manuscript, this time focusing on enriching the prose. I fleshed out descriptions, motivations, and dialogue. My goal was to allow readers to focus on the right questions—What’s really happening with this conspiracy? How is everything connected?—instead of struggling to fill in gaps in the narrative.

When I sent the revised manuscript back to the Beta readers, their reactions were overwhelmingly positive. “I couldn’t put it down,” one said. A couple told me they read it in two or three sittings, which was exactly what I hoped for. Finally, the story wasn’t just gripping—it was enjoyable, too.

From 80K to 63K to 75K Words

Through all the edits, my word count shifted wildly. The first draft clocked in at 80K words, but after trimming the fat and tightening the plot, it dropped to 63K. Then, after enriching the prose, it bounced back up to 75K. My supporting notes—character sheets, outlines, background research—ballooned from 30K to 50K words. In fact, some of these notes were so detailed they made their way into the story, like the Safety Data Sheets (SDS) that became a key plot point.

Every round of revision made the story stronger. I cut what slowed it down, added what was missing, and tried to get out of the reader’s way.

Knowing When to Say “It’s Done”

Through it all, the hardest part wasn’t the editing itself — it was knowing when to stop. Every time I looked at the manuscript, I saw something I could improve. But at some point, you have to step back and say, “It’s done.” You could polish forever. The trick is learning the difference between making it better and just making it different.

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