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Article by: Kathryn Rhodes, freelance writer at Globe Soup.

“Every writer I know has trouble writing.” So said Joseph Heller, the author of ‘Catch-22’. There is little doubt that every successful work of fiction is the end result of many scrupulously revised and reworked drafts, from which we can confidently conclude that the perfect first draft has rarely, if ever, been written.

This, believe it or not, is good news. The sooner every writer, whether they be first-timers or old hands, can disabuse themselves of the myth that an entrancing novel, a perfect short story, will effortlessly spring from the pen (or keyboard) of its author, the better writer they will become. If every author were to sit down and wait for a stream of flawless prose to instantly flow from their fingertips we would have far, far fewer wonderful stories and novels. 

So the first lesson in how to revise your written work is to forget about perfection when you start to write. For instance, it doesn’t matter one jot that you don’t instantly come up with that ideal opening line. The perfect opener is far more likely to reveal itself once you have words on the page, once you have got to know your characters, once you discover where your story is heading. I doubt one of the most memorable opening sentences in British literature sprang instantly formed from Jane Austen’s pen.

Don’t try to edit or rewrite as you go – that is what the process of revision is for. It will help if you try to look on your first draft as a warm-up, a loosening of your writing muscles, before the serious work of revision begins – which, incidentally, is also the most satisfying part of writing, just as running a marathon is so much more serious but also so much more rewarding than the preliminary warm-up exercises.

When finally - to your immense relief and pride - your first draft is completed, you are of course permitted a sigh of relief (and maybe a holiday) but whether you’re a short story writer or a novelist the process of revision must be your next step. 

One of the most common flaws to look out for is the overuse of descriptive language. It is so tempting when describing anything tangible (the weather, a view, a person) or intangible (a feeling, an emotion, a scent) to use emotive, elaborate language to try and capture its essence. Of course it's essential to describe a scene so the reader can visualise it, or delve into a character's emotions so the reader will empathise with or be repelled by them, whichever you intend, but not to the extent that they lose the thread of the narrative. An excess of over-fanciful descriptions, or purple prose (so-called because the colour purple symbolises grandeur), may well have the unintended effect of arousing disbelief in the reader, who could then transfer that disbelief to the tale you are telling.

So cutting out an excess of grandiose prose is essential to revision, especially with short stories which can be spoiled if adjectives, similes, metaphors etc are over-dramatic, exaggerated or too lengthy - the last thing you want is to distract the reader’s attention from the unfolding narrative. The author M.J. Hyland, who also lectures in creative writing, quotes this example of the poor use of descriptive prose: “She looked beautiful with all her red curls wrapping round themselves like the golden tendrils of an ancient oak tree or like the snakes on Medusa’s head.” Too long, too overwrought, simply too distracting.

From description to dialogue. A good technique for finding out if speech sounds natural in your work is to read it aloud, or – even better - have somebody read it out loud to you. If your story is set in modern times it is often more true to life to use contractions – “I’m going” instead of “I am going”. Only by hearing it read aloud will you realise how artificial it can be to compose conversations grammatically rather than naturally.

One error which writers often make is to try to find different ways of describing how their characters are speaking. Just to repeat “she said” or “he said” is incredibly dull, but to attempt too much variety – “she explained”; “he cried”; “she gasped” and so on can be even worse. Far better to give each character an individual voice so that a conversation can take place on the page without having to state each time who is talking and in what manner. If you feel it’s becoming unclear which character is speaking then describing what they are doing whilst they converse can be equally effective, eg “Peter shrugged his shoulders” instead of “Peter said”.

Another revision technique is for someone else to read what you’ve written and tell you if something doesn’t quite work for them (if it’s the same person who reads your dialogues aloud they’re clearly a very good friend…). Preferably not another aspiring author, just a trusted book lover. If something doesn’t ring true to your test reader it’s probably worth following up; however, you must stop listening if they then go on to tell you how to put it right. It’s your story, your words – the final decision must be yours.

With short stories (probably less so with novels, for obvious reasons) it can help you view your work more clearly if you write a second draft without reference to the first. You now know the direction of your story but your use of language will inevitably differ. If you’ve come up with a sentence or a phrase the first time around of which you are inordinately proud and therefore unwilling to discard, you may find when rewriting that it is not as appropriate or clever as you at first thought. It’s very tempting when you’re feeling pleased with a choice of words to want to keep them, even if they’re not quite right – a rewrite can help you put them in perspective so you don’t mourn their loss quite so deeply.

One tip I have found extremely useful is to remove the word “that” wherever possible – you will probably be surprised how often this can be done. “I think that I love you” means just the same as “I think I love you”. Another tip is not to use more words than you need, and to keep those you use as unembellished as possible. “I never write “metropolis”… when I can write “city” and get paid the same” – Mark Twain. Sometimes you may prefer a more ornate word – I’ve just used “unembellished” when I could have said “simple”. But don’t overdo their use or it just sounds like showing off.

A good writer is one who not only has a talent for writing but who also has a talent for the hard work of revision. A good writer will learn to cope with the idea that they almost certainly haven’t got it right the first time around. Good writers excel, says M.J. Hyland, “because they have the right measure of intellect and talent for the hard labour of rewriting”. Hard labour may not provide instant gratification but the end result will prove immeasurably rewarding.

A professional special needs teacher and history graduate, Kate has interspersed her career in education with a wide variety of literary commissions. These have ranged from proofreading medical textbooks to a collaboration with a Professor of English at the University of Granada on an historical account of 19th century women travellers. She has had blogs published on two U.S. websites, Local.com (on such diverse topics as the life cycle of cicadas and the history of clowning) and 49 articles on a wide range of work-related themes for the careers platform, CareerBliss. She loves gathering beautiful words (deliquesce; mellifluous; petrichor) and reciting them to her beloved dog and cat, neither of whom is remotely impressed.