Editing My Novels for a Decade, Part 2

What the hell am I doing, editing my novels for a decade? 

Good question.

What am I actually doing when I reread a novel I’ve been rereading for seven, eight, nine years? 

What more could I be doing that I haven’t already done?

It’s sobering, artistically, to be improving a manuscript for this long, especially when you make an obvious fix (clunky wording, dull dialogue, confusing scene) that you should have made years ago. 

Sobering. Humbling. Gratifying.

Here’s a snapshot of the process. 

I write a novel. It’s awesome! Let’s publish it! I reread it. I lose heart. I keep working on it. It’s awesome! Let’s publish it! I reread it. I lose heart. I keep working on it. . . .

The process of creation is like story structure. 

Act 1—Setup: I want to write a novel. 

Act 2—Fun: I write the novel. 

Act 3—Death: I hate the novel. 

Act 4—Triumph: I fix the novel.

There are times I make an improvement in a manuscript, a novel that I wrote, say, five years ago, and it’s such a welcome improvement that I’m grateful I waited to make the change. I would have felt terrible pushing the earlier manuscript onto the world.

In my previous entry, I mentioned that I recently rewrote the first chapter of the novel I wrote in 2015, Smarthome Rebel, and I’m glad I rewrote that chapter. It’s worlds better. 

Why did it take me so long to rewrite that chapter? I don’t have an outside editor. I’m doing it myself. It takes longer to edit my own work because I need time away from it.

You, as a novelist, might want to get an outside editor. Look how long it takes when you’re on your own! 

You, as a novelist, might want to let your novel sit and start a new novel, as I have done. You will learn so much about yourself as a writer the more you write, and you will return with vigor to your first manuscript.

Okay, so what am I actually doing as an editor of my own work?

EDIT THE NOVEL AS A WHOLE

I do not do this. I do not edit the storyline. 

In many cases, I have dreamt of the novel for years before writing the first draft. I’ve written notes that sprawl to 30,000 words over several documents before I write the first sentence of the first chapter. 

I have my loglines. I have my structure. I have my character charts. I have my maps of physical spaces. I have the outline of the beats in my four acts. I have worked out the spine of the story before I begin. I do not revisit the structure.

Okay, I’m lying. I’ve done it once.

Out of the ten novels I’ve written since 2015, one vexes me. I struggle with the structure of Summer Clubbing, which I wrote in 2019. It’s an interesting case of stumbling upon a story concept that I think is hilarious (Elle Woods with an axe), but the structure in which I chose to tell it (Fool Triumphant: see “Save the Cat”) led me to writing against the grain of myself. 

I’m a hero guy. I write about the positive transformation of a self-aware hero. I was not true to myself in Summer Clubbing. I thought I could write something different. It turned out to be a mess of mixed genres. 

That edit is ongoing, but the lesson learned is that to fix it, I need to be true to my unique DNA as a novelist. (See my entry, “Your Unique Storyteller’s DNA.”)

EDIT THE ACTS

When I have the structure of the novel down tight, I know that editing within the novel is worth the trouble. I’m okay with spending years fussing within the story because I know the story spine is strong. 

The bones are there. I edit to develop the muscles of emotion.

I don’t edit the acts overall, but I do pay attention to their relative proportions. 

Act 1 | I keep the first act shorter than the others, as conventional wisdom advises. You don’t want to wait too long for the hero to choose to enter the adventure of Act 2. So I may cut down the length of the first act. The other three acts are closer in length.

Act 2 | I typically have longer second acts. It’s the fun stuff. The hero enters a new world, meets new people, and works in a new way. It takes a while to guide the reader through all that. Sometimes I edit this down or slow it down but only to clarify things for the reader.

I have in the past had to increase the emphasis in a milestone chapter halfway through the second act to mark the hero’s progress in their task. It’s a way to keep the reader reading to the midpoint scenes.

Act 3 | The third act is when the antagonist makes more progress in their plans than the hero does. The hero moves forward and continues to act, but the antagonist does more. 

The main beat in this act is the Death Moment, where the antagonist appears to have beaten the hero, and the hero regrets their setup desire (“I should have never done this,” “It’s all my fault,” “I’m not the one,” etc.). 

Writers often suffer from an instinct to protect their heroes from difficult situations, which is an impulse that undermines drama. I return to edit the Death Moment with this in mind. 

There are two basic chapters (or scenes) in a Death Moment: the event and the processing of that event. 

The Event: Have I shown the antagonist kicking the hero’s ass? Have I knocked my hero down to size? Death is the ultimate emblem of failure. Have I made sure the event reeks of death?

Processing the Event: Have I made sure the hero suffers from sincere regret at this moment? Have I done enough to linger in this trough of failure and get the most out of the character’s self-loathing? 

I need a low moment for the hero to wallow in because that makes the rise into the final act that much more dramatic. 

Act 4 | The fourth and final act is tricky. Should it be shorter or longer than the others? 

If it’s too short, I probably haven’t found enough ways to synthesize elements from the previous acts. The characters need to be shown growing (hero) or imploding (antagonist) in as many ways as possible. I’ve led the reader on a journey for a couple hundred pages. There had better be a great showdown, or the reader will be pissed. And I will feel like I’ve let my material down.

If the final act is too long, it can feel like a long goodbye. Let’s wrap it up already. I have more books on the nightstand!

I tend to prefer writing a longer final act because I want to get the most of what I’ve established. It’s better to develop the drama than leave great final scenes unwritten. So when I edit the final act, I’m less concerned with making it short and more concerned with pumping up the drama.

In the next entry, I’ll cover what I do to edit chapters, paragraphs, and so on.

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