You’ve written your book, and now it’s time to start your edits. Step one: read your book again like a reader. Then read it again as an editor and read it densely.
When I say "read it densely," I mean don’t read anything else while you work through it. Treat it like both your reading time and your work time. Move at a pace that allows you to vividly remember the beginning while you’re working on the ending. Only by maintaining this focused, immersive approach will you start to notice inconsistencies from the front to the back. (And not even then sometimes, but we’ll get to that in other pieces.)
Ideally, you’ve stepped away from the book for a while before starting this process. When you return, things should feel unfamiliar, though not foreign. That’s the sweet spot for getting a reader’s impression. Don’t judge too harshly on this first pass. If you must, jot down notes on what feels most right or most wrong.
On your second read, you’ll be primed to recognize what worked and what didn’t. This time, you’re looking for:
Unjustified personality changes
Disappearing plot threads
Characters you wanted to like but didn’t (and vice versa)
Newly needed plot threads.
Themes you failed to deliver on.
Etc…
Think big.
Here’s an example:
Let’s say you’re working on a time travel novel. The main character’s parents make several appearances, but feedback from readers suggests their presence isn’t adding much value. If you agree, what do you do next?
As you read, note what those scenes with the parents accomplish.
Is there character growth essential for later plot points?
Do they deliver crucial information that shapes future events?
If those elements are necessary, they can’t be lost.
When you remove a character, the best approach is to merge their role with another existing character. In this case, instead of the protagonist living with their parents, maybe they live with their best friend in a shared college apartment. If that friend was previously a minor character, this is an opportunity to develop them further, elevating them from tertiary to secondary.
It wouldn’t be out of character for the friend to act as a sounding board, which was the parents' primary function. You could even add humor with lines like, “Wouldn’t your mom say…” to maintain the same narrative effect. With these adjustments, the parents disappear from the book, and the overall story becomes tighter and more focused.
Document your changes thoroughly. Never get rid of old work!
Take a step back and review your notes. Do they make sense? You’re trying to pull out old threads and weave in new ones without unraveling the entire narrative. This process takes time and patience.
You might need several passes, but you should aim to have broad notes on each chapter—what stays, what goes, and what replaces it.
Now, you need a framework for integrating these new pieces. (See "Scaffolding and Architectural Writing Notes" for more on this concept.)
Add your changes directly into your manuscript as notes. For scenes you need to write from scratch, treat each one like a short story within the larger narrative. For example, "XYZ must do ABC while feeling EFG and teaching So-and-So such-and-such." Write these scenes in rough form first. Don’t worry about perfect merging or seamless transitions yet. That part comes later.
Go through this process for every change you’ve identified. Once done, you’ll have the second revision of your book.
Then? You guessed it… read it again.
You may need to repeat this cycle multiple times to hammer out the rough edges, but with each pass, your story will become closer to right.
See you next time for content editing.
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