edit note to self: part one

on the life-changing power of self-editing

People often say writing is in the rewrites and what they mean is that editing is writing. I agree but I’d also go one step further and say: Editing is everything.

Editing is far more than just shifting around words on a page. It’s perception. Human consciousness. Focus, attention. Editing is how we understand the world. It’s life. Allow me to expand.

Our lives are a series of decisions and actions. Editing is the complex filtration process by which we make these decisions. Decisions become actions which in turn determine our experience and lives. We let in some information and cut out the rest. We retain certain memories but block out others. Editing is sanity, a sorting process to maintain an ongoing semblance of order. If not this, then what?

You might think of yourself as indecisive and passive. A phlegmatic, shy, retiring sort. Many writers and readers are, on the surface. In reality though, you are making countless decisions every waking second of your life, all of them active and determinative. The reason you may not be aware of this is because most of our decisions are unconscious, born of habit. But decisions are decisions none-the-less, and they are powerful. Decisions make up the fabric of your existence and experience. They form your character. I’ll say it again: Editing is life.

Why read this post and not that one? Who to respond to, who to block out? What job to apply for? What hat to wear? Should you move to New Zealand, have a baby or roll over and sleep off your hangover? This word or that one? What’s the point of anything? Who am I? Who are you?

The last two questions are the only ones I can answer definitively: We are all the sum of our individual choices and actions in response to our circumstances and environment. Identity-crisis solved. You’re welcome.¹

So all these little choices and actions over time, determine who we are. The problem is that most people (like most first drafts) fall off course and get stuck in ruts. We know we should change direction at some point… but we fear change, so we plod on, increasingly sickened, hoping for the best.

Irrationally, we hope the situation might fix itself. We put the first draft in a drawer hoping it might shape-shift into something better. And while things do sometimes magically improve without effort (for instance you write a flabby first draft YA novel about a coven of teen witches and then Harry Potter comes out, or you marry a social drinker who slides into alcoholism but then miraculously goes into recovery — woo hoo!), these are black swan events. They happen rarely and are caused by factors beyond our control. They often happen in bad ways to (you get made redundant, you marry a social drinker who slides into alcoholism but never recovers). You can’t count on a black swan.

Most of the time, if something isn’t working, in real life or the page, the only way to change it is through hard graft. By graft, I mean conscious decisions leading to tangible action and change. You need to roll up your sleeves and edit. And unless you have a track record of bestsellers under your belt, you’re probably going to have to edit it yourself.

Here’s the good news though: It’s possible!

We can fix almost anything ourselves. We can do this through a process known as self-editing. Self-editing is a skill and it can absolutely be taught and learned. Like any skill it requires practice, energy and sustained effort. You have to want to do it and you have to want it badly. So badly you are willing to risk failure and loss if it doesn’t come off. Changing course is a conscious decision. It’s big and scary and stark. Once you’re in a rut you won’t slide off course accidentally. Getting out of a rut feels a bit like jumping off a cliff. We don’t really know where or how we’ll land, which is why most people never risk it. Fine.

In my experience, self-editing on the page boils down to five key steps, performed in a strict order: