How I Write Novels, Part 4: Will revisions ever end??
a.k.a. The Part Where I Try to Make This Actually Readable
Need a refresher on this series? Here’s Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3—happy reading!)
By the time I’ve tackled all the red, yellow, and green light issues (check out Part 3 if you missed that), I usually have what I think of as a “real draft.”
The story is there. The logic mostly holds. The big scenes exist.
But now it’s time to make it work on the page.
This next stage of revision is all about smoothing and polishing.
I’m trying to move from “okay, the book makes sense” to “the book feels good to read.”
Here’s how I approach it:
I start with a read-through.
Once I’ve finished all those heavy-lifting revisions, I set the manuscript aside for a couple days to get some distance and then do a full read-through—usually exported to my Kindle, with a journal nearby for notes.
I’m reading with fresh eyes, trying to experience the story as a reader would. I’m not editing every sentence yet—this isn’t the nitpicky line-editing phase—but I am noticing what still feels clunky, confusing, or emotionally flat.
Some of the questions I keep in mind:
Does each chapter pull me forward?
Are the character arcs satisfying and believable?
Does the mystery unfold at the right pace?
Are there any boring parts I’m tempted to skim?
Is there enough texture—those little moments of description or emotion that make the world feel alive?
Often at this stage, I’ll catch inconsistencies or odd emotional beats I missed in earlier rounds. And I’ll flag any areas that just feel “off” but I can’t yet articulate why. Sometimes I trust that my editor will help me figure those out—but I always try to go as far as I can before sending it off.
I refine the rhythm of the writing.
Because I write mysteries, I’m always thinking about pacing—not just the mystery plot, but the ebb and flow of relationships, emotional moments, and character growth.
This is the stage where I pay attention to things like:
Are there too many scenes in a row where people are just talking? Or is my amateur sleuth spending too much time sitting around, thinking?
Does the tension build in a way that feels organic?
Are there moments of quiet to balance out the chaos?
I also think about sentence rhythm. I want the prose to feel like me—warm, clear, thoughtful—but also to serve the mood of the scene. If something is meant to be tense, the writing should feel taut. If it’s a moment of connection or comfort, I want the language to invite the reader to linger.
Sometimes I’ll read sections out loud to hear where things get clunky or repetitive. This part is subtle, and slow. But it can also be a fun part of the process. It feels like sculpting—smoothing the surface, shaping the details.
This is when I bring in my editor.
At this point, the manuscript is in good enough shape that I know it can be read and understood, but I also know I’ve stopped being objective. And I know there are still gaps and plot holes that need an expert eye to help me fill in.
So I send it off to my editor—someone I trust to see both the heart of the story and the places where it still falls short.
I tell her where I already have doubts. I ask for big-picture feedback and flag smaller questions if there are specific scenes I’m unsure about.
And then I wait.
This part is hard. There’s a weird vulnerability in handing off a draft that feels “almost” there but not quite. But I remind myself: this is the point. I’ve taken the story as far as I can on my own. I want her to tell me where it needs more work (and to reassure me that it’s not as bad as I think it is!).
When the feedback comes back, I take a deep breath and dig in again. Usually it’s a mix of affirming and challenging. She’ll tell me what’s working (which I really need to hear by this point!) and where I’ve glossed over emotional beats or rushed through turning points.
And then I revise one more time—focused, now, on clarity, depth, and resonance.
The final round: polish, polish, polish.
Once the structural feedback is addressed and the emotional arcs are landing, I go through the manuscript one last time to polish the language.
This is where I’ll:
Tighten dialogue.
Eliminate overused words or phrases.
Add a line of interiority that sharpens the moment.
Fix awkward transitions.
Make sure the tone is consistent.
My editor will often call out places where the language could be improved, which helps me start to see where I need to tighten things up, too.
Sometimes I do this final polish in one pass. Sometimes I do it chapter by chapter, especially if my brain is tired. I don’t try to do everything at once—I just keep chipping away until it feels done.
Which, let’s be honest, is a little nebulous. There’s always more I could tweak. But eventually I get to the point where reading the book doesn’t make me cringe, and I feel proud of what it’s become.
That’s when I know it’s time to let go. And then comes the fun part of self-publishing!
I’d love to hear from you:
What part of the revision process feels the hardest?
What part feels the most rewarding?
(And if you’re in the middle of a revision right now, sending you a big hug and lots of stamina. You’ve got this.)
