If you've received vague revision instructions like “go deeper," we have some specific revision techniques that'll help you take your work to the next level.

You have a story in your head—if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. So how do you turn it from an idea into a polished, professional, un-put-down-able work that people will love to read? That’s what good editors do, and that’s what we’re here for.

Revision Techniques Explained

If you’re several drafts in, and you know your story backwards, it can be difficult to see where changes should be made—even though your gut tells you it isn’t finished. There are a few techniques I like to recommend to help writers see what deeper, stronger storytelling might mean. The most time-consuming is the least popular: look at each scene, starting at the beginning, and ask yourself whether it has enough of an impact on the story. Then, within the scene, consider your word choice. Ask yourself, did you slap those words on the page to get through the scene? Are they accurate? Do they convey the characters’ emotions? And do they evoke an emotional reaction from the reader?

This process can feel daunting if your project is 50,000 words or more. The idea of going through a novel, word by word, is overwhelming enough that many writers avoid it and hope for the best. For this reason, there are two revision techniques I recommend to break it down into smaller steps, by looking for specific things that give a scene more punch, make statements stronger, and bring characters to life. 

There’s Always a Choice

First: Find the scene, or scenes, where you say the character has no choice. (Or any iteration of this: What choice did he have? You leave me no choice! His only choice was to XYZ. Put “choice” in Find and look at each time you use it.) In your story—as in life—there’s always a choice. Saying there’s no choice gets your character off the hook, allowing them to avoid owning their actions. To go deeper here means to show the choice. It could be the lesser of two evils, or it could be the difference between action and inaction. The character might feel like they have their back against a wall, and they have to do something because it’s expected. Instead of saying they have no choice, though, show them thinking through what the consequences will be if they don’t do this thing. Maybe someone will literally kill them—but would it save their pride? Thinking it through can also give the character a sense of resolve, and give the reader more reason to empathize with them. “I have no choice” becomes something deeper. Maybe it’s “I hate this choice, but I feel like it’s what I have to do, because if I don’t, XYZ will happen. And that would be worse.”

Readers can relate to struggling with a decision. Admitting there’s a choice can also highlight a character’s flaws. If you have a scene where the character is rushing into decisions, assuming something is the only option, it forces them to acknowledge that there are probably other options they’re ignoring, maybe because they’re inconvenient. By changing the no choice statement, you give the reader greater insight on the character, and the writing becomes stronger.

Statements Are Stronger Than Questions …

The second revision technique is to search the document for rhetorical questions. Why? Well, why do you think? (See what I did there?) Rhetorical questions pull the reader out of the story, because when we see one, we pause to try to answer it … and we can’t, because we aren’t the character. My editorial note on rhetorical questions is invariably, “This would be stronger as a statement.”

Consider this scene, with open-ended rhetorical questions:

Harris straightened his skiing penguins tie and checked his teeth for stray bits of spinach. Ten minutes until he had to leave for Charlene’s. He remembered last year’s holiday bash, when his tie somehow wound up in the fish tank. Would that happen again tonight?

He grabbed the eggnog from the fridge and headed out the door. What if they asked him to sing? He shook off the thought as he got in the car. What else could go wrong?

The reader is unable to answer the three questions. First, we can’t see the future and have no way of knowing what might happen. Second, only Harris can tell us the pros and cons of being asked to sing. And third, any number of things could go wrong. The scene were be stronger if instead of posing questions, statements were made that gave us more insight into Harris’s character:

Harris straightened his skiing penguins tie and checked his teeth for stray bits of spinach. Ten minutes until he had to leave for Charlene’s. He remembered last year’s holiday bash, when his tie somehow wound up in the fish tank. No way on God’s green Earth will that happen again tonight. I didn’t live that down until the Fourth of July, when Leo lit the firecracker with the short fuse.

He grabbed the eggnog from the fridge and headed out the door. If they asked him to sing tonight, he would flat-out refuse. Claim his vocal cords were strained from cheering at the Bulls’ game. Singing would only lead to more bad decisions. He shook off the thought as he got in the car. Nothing will go wrong tonight. It’s a new year.

… Unless It’s a Direct Thought

The exception is if the question is a character’s direct thought, and it’s followed by the character answering it. For example:

We broke up three months ago, so why am I still driving past Flint’s house every day? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. And a creature of habit. And, yeah, maybe I’m hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But what would I do if I saw him with someone else? Wouldn’t that be worse? Of course it would. And it would ruin my day. So today is the day for change. I’m taking Route 3 instead.

There’s a back-and-forth here the reader can follow, and get a sense of the character’s personality as they argue with themselves.

In both examples, the statements make the writing stronger. We see how the characters think, and get to know them better. Now we can relate to them. When we see the rhetorical questions, though, we only know how we would answer them. And while we might pause to reflect how we would handle the situation, we’re distanced from the character, and the story is weaker for it.

Choose Stronger, Deeper Every Time

Once you’ve done these two revision techniques with your work, you’ll have a better sense of how to make your story stronger. It will hopefully put you into a revision mindset, and help you see other ways to get deeper into your characters. The better the reader knows the characters, the more relatable they become. And if we can relate to them, we remember them. And then you have an unforgettable story.

I’d love to help you go deeper and take your work to the next level. Contact me at Good Story Editing and we can tailor a service to fit your needs.