If you’ve ever compared a first draft to a final manuscript, you know that writers rarely produce a sellable novel the instant they type “The end.” They need to make time consuming and tedious changes to turn their ideas into art that others will enjoy. 

 

When you revisit your work, you’ll have a better understanding of your characters, a clearer vision of your timeline, and a deeper passion for the topic or theme. The wisdom you gain after hours spent exploring and experimenting enables you to craft a more compelling and cohesive version of your premise.

 

To me, drafting a manuscript is akin to creating an animal figurine out of a pile of clay. Section by section, you mold, carve, and polish your loosely formed impression into a muscular, spirited stallion. Over the past few years, I’ve had to revise three manuscripts, and during that process, I stumbled across four methods that increased my efficiency. The clay analogy is ideal for conveying each one.

 

1. Kneading

Writers sometimes jump straight to edits without rereading their manuscripts. But that’s like expecting your sculpture to stick together without preparing your materials first. You must repeatedly squeeze the polymer to remove air bubbles and make it pliable. 

 

If you don’t reacquaint yourself with your manuscript, you risk facing multiple do-overs. For example, perhaps you started your original draft with a certain ending in mind. A handful of chapters might contain threads pointing to that outcome. But halfway through, your protagonist yanks the story in a different direction. Not catching the shift means you’ll later have to backtrack and revamp those earlier scenes. And instead of wasting mental energy on a segment with the obsolete plot line in it, you could have simply deleted it and moved on. A reread prevents unnecessary hassle.

 

I switch on the read-aloud tool in my word processor since otherwise my mind tends to insert words and punctuation that aren’t there. Listening to the story not only reveals big-picture issues but also repetition and boring sentence structures. I often fixate on a cool new term I learned, or I’ll pepper my chapters with fillers like so, just, actually, still, and really. 

 

During your initial read-through, identify all the areas that require extra attention and be sure to take detailed notes you can reference when you progress to the next phase. Does each chapter close with an enticing hook? Are the characters unique and is their behavior consistent? Does the timeline flow? Do you detect any worldbuilding gaps? Is your prose littered with verbal tics?

 

2. Shaping

Once an artist has softened the clay, he’ll liberally pinch, roll, cut, and fold it to add definition. This is the stage where you’ll haul out your previous analysis and tackle the broader elements before the nitty-gritty ones, preferably in consecutive order.

 

When I was revising Offsides, the second novel in my sports series, I noticed discrepancies in my protagonist and unlikable traits in my side character. Targeting each one specifically, I combed through every chapter and evaluated their actions and dialogue. I needed genuine characters who maintained their distinct identities. Upgrading them altered numerous interactions, which opened up a range of new possibilities. 

 

As I retraced where I introduced their goals, motivations, and obstacles, I assessed whether their personalities still lined up with those earmarks and led to growth. If any aspect remained unclear, I expanded my descriptions. I then checked to see if I’d repaired plot holes or accelerated the momentum.

 

Lastly, I narrowed my focus to individual scenes. That encompassed everything from trimming extraneous paragraphs to improving pacing to renaming characters so I didn’t have Dani (a girl) and Danny (a boy) on the field. For pivotal moments, I considered how I could leverage word choice to heighten tension and contrasts to showcase hope. And when I reached the culmination of a chapter, if it fell flat, I searched for the reason. 

 

Modifying one part usually affects other parts, multiplying the amount of adjustments you need to make, so proceeding from the macro to the micro level will save you from endless rounds of editing. 

 

3. Curing

Before pottery goes into a kiln, it must sit until the clay dries. Firing wet clay can cause steam to form in air pockets and shatter the project. Once you’ve poked and prodded your manuscript, separating yourself from it is equally crucial. You’ll allow your brain to reset so you can look at your story with a fresh perspective. Remember, until you’ve submitted it to a publisher, you can continue to tweak it.

 

Use the break to let someone else, such as a critique group, editor, and/or beta readers, give you feedback. I usually send my readers a questionnaire so that they’re not fussing over the spelling and punctuation errors my line editor will correct. A few categories I cover are: character relatability, motivation believability, plot congruity, scene clarity, and ending unforgettability.

 

4. Baking

As you’re readying your manuscript for publication, you’ll put the heat on and gradually transform it from a fluid, adaptable form to a hardened, finalized form. After you receive responses from your beta readers, you’ll need to review your manuscript at least one more time (probably more) to apply their suggestions. And don’t take the criticism personally! Instead, treat their input as an opportunity to improve. 

 

You may not agree with every nitpick, but don’t be too quick to dismiss a concern, because if one reader is struggling to comprehend a piece of your story, others might too. Compare the comments—do any consensuses emerge? When I shared my draft of Inside the Ten-Foot Line, the first novel in my sports series, several beta readers told me that they rooted for the antagonist instead of the protagonist. I also realized that the dynamic between the protagonist and the antagonist gelled when they teamed up, so my beta readers helped me recognize a web of flaws in my story. Additionally, because many volleyball rules and plays proved difficult for non-athletes to follow, I incorporated a glossary. 

 

Test your (and others’) ideas thoroughly, keeping what serves your story and discarding what doesn’t. Then activate the read-aloud tool again to isolate any punctuation or grammar errors that might have cropped up. You’ll hear these tiny mistakes more easily than you’ll spot them. When you’re finished, you can hit submit with confidence.

 

The Sculpture

After cycling through the kneading, shaping, curing, and baking, the potter has an inspiring ceramic to display. When you go through the revision process, you’ll leave your workshop with a masterpiece you can proudly present to the world too.

 

It’s not a fast or easy task. But joy can be found as you hone your story into something durable and lasting. So throw the clay on the table, roll up your sleeves, and start molding. The result is worth the messy hands and sore muscles.