Writing is rewriting

Ernest Hemingway once confided to George Plimpton during an interview that he rewrote the ending to "A Farewell to Arms" 39 times before he was satisfied.
Why so many rewrites? Plimpton asked.
Because, Hemingway responded, he wanted to get the words right.

Would that newspapers had more Hemingways. We ink-stained wretches can't rewrite every story ending 39 times and still make deadline. But for many of us, a single rewrite would be a giant leap forward, making our newspapers measurably better.

Ask any copy editor or line editor: Revision is easily the most neglected part of the writing process. Whether it's through laziness, hurriedness or the stigma of revision as scut work, far too many of us leave excess baggage in our stories for others to cull.

That's because many writers file not stories, but drafts. They think their first try is their last try, or that their first try, checked for style, spelling and grammar, makes for a complete story. In rare deadline situations, it may. But by and large, such an attitude is folly because it subjects the draft to the writer's needs (clean it up, get it out), not the reader's (clarity and understanding).

And then there's the old newspaper stereotype: Good writers get it right the first time. You're supposed to produce perfection, or at least near-perfection, on the first draft. That's the sort of B.S. that makes writers sweat every word or phrase as they go, putting all their mental energy into revising rather than creating by writing freely. It produces weak stories. In truth, you can't draft and polish at the same time. You might as well try waxing your car while you're hosing off the dirt.

The best writers have learned what Hemingway knew: Writing is rewriting. It's where the story truly takes shape, where the writer marshals just the right words, a fitting image, a phrase turned just so. Everything beforehand is a warm-up.

The best writers don't spit out a draft and fly home. They stay a while and polish the rough diamond.
Even on a tedious story, they'll do one thing that's uniquely theirs, even if it's a simple as a well-chosen verb.

That means they search their draft with a critical eye for the nuggets of meaning and power, using the draft's strengths to form a finished story that readers will want to read, that's clear, simple, focused and understandable.

They ask themselves: What works? What needs work? What's there? What's missing?

You can't make an omelette ...

How much revision a story needs depends largely on the quality of work that went into the front end. Remember the parts of the classic writing process and their effect on the draft:

• Idea
  Was it well thought out, or did you chase after the first concept that entered your mind? Did you talk it over with your editor? Did you explore the strongest story angles, trying to discern what readers most want or need to know?
• Report
  Did you cover all your bases, check a balanced sampling of sources, or just grab a couple of talking heads?
• Organize
  Did you ask yourself: What's this story about? What's my point? Did you take time for a jot outline or otherwise order the information in the most natural way?
• Draft
  Did you truly draft, putting aside your notes and writing freely through the story, or did you plod along and cobble a piece straight from your notebook?
• Revise
  If the above answers are all "yes," your job now is easier. If they're "no," you're about to discover your story is thin and full of holes. Rewriting can't help when you have no material to rewrite with. Go back to "report" and "organize," or revisit "idea." Do not collect $200.

What to accomplish

As you peruse your finished draft, ask yourself about what's working. Here's a short checklist of tasks for this stage:

• Focus
  Are you conveying one dominant meaning, or are you simply emptying the notebook? The reader will spot an unfocused story within the first graf or two and turn the page. If you're still feeling fuzzy at this stage, ask yourself: What's my point?
• Shape
  Does this story have a natural shape that best expresses it, and can you refine it? Should it be the quick fact-telling of an inverted pyramid? If you're recounting a crime, should you employ the "police said it happened like this" device of the champagne glass form? Do you have a narrative begging to be told?
• Read
  Role-play the reader. A specific reader. Mom is a favorite for many writers. Would she understand? Would she like it? Would she keep reading? If not, what would make the story understandable and inviting?
  Order - Is it natural? Does the information unfold in pleasing way? If not, maybe you didn't outline, and should do so now.
• Develop
  Do you need to do more reporting? Do you have Swiss cheese rather than a story? What can you do in the time remaining?
• Edit
  Rene J. Cappon poses three useful questions in his landmark book, "The Word." I suggest asking them of yourself and rewriting accordingly:
  • Have I said what I meant to say?
  • Have I put it as concisely as possible?
  • Have I put things as simply as possible?

What to double-check

Once those concerns are addressed, it's time to turn to the finer points. Among the things to double-check:

• Word choice
  Rely on nouns and verbs, not modifiers; make sure verbs are active; avoid cliches and jargon; be sure your idiom is both appropriate to the story and accurately employed: This is no time to be Yogi Berra, unless you want to be funny.
• Voice
  Does the story's voice arise from the story, or are you forcing an artificial voice on it? Are you using humor to convey something serious or even tragic? Are you telling a hilarious or evocative tale in a monotone? Do you sound like an institution rather than a human being? Read it aloud if you have to; rewrite not just with your mind, but with your ear.
• Context
  Events, by and large, don't just pop up on the radar screen; they have histories. Are you conveying that sense to the reader? Are you explaining where the story came from, and where it's going?
• Accuracy
  Is your information accurate? Is it presented in an accurate context?
• Imagery
  When you use imagery (quiet as a still sea, for example), is it appropriate to the story's meaning, or does it force the mind to stretch for a connection?
• Grammar
  Copy editors have to fix this in stories every day. It ain't their job; it's the writer's.
• Spelling
  Use spellcheck before you ship every story, without fail.
• Ending
  Have one when you start. It gives you a destination and gives the reader a sense of closure. And it can guard against unnecessary trimming. But don't be fooled: Even the best ending can't make up for a flabby opening or midsection _ the sort of inexactness produced by poor reporting. (In other words, good front-end work can guarantee a good closer.)

Make the time

The essence of revision is to realize that it isn't an extra piece of work tacked onto the end of your day; it's where the payoff for your hard work comes, where you make it sing.

The problem, in newspapers, is that revising time isn't handed to you; you have to make it. On deadline and off.

If you aren't doing so now, start. You may find yourself opening the door to a level of quality you haven't achieved before.
And frankly, you'll produce what we're in business for: better stories.