How Many Times Can (Should) You Tweak Your Work?

image: Jodie Cook for Unsplash

If it’s me answering, there is no answer—I could only really use words like “infinity,” or “until I’m dead.” Every single time I go back to anything I’ve written, I want to make changes. This is particularly troublesome when we’re talking about stuff that’s been published—the tweaking boat has sailed on that one.

On the other hand, if I looked back on what I wrote 20 or 10 or even five years ago, if there wasn’t anything I wanted to change, I’d worry about myself. Every day we all change and grow as people: we gather new insights, navigate new experiences, meet new people. And as writers, we’re doing the same thing, as long as we’re open to all those influences and as long as we have a definite regular practice of our craft. I’m a better writer than I was yesterday. I hope I will be a better writer tomorrow than I am today.

It's beautiful, that knowledge. And it’s frustrating as well, since we’ll never go back and rewrite what’s published. My solution is to never revisit it—I have enough projects going that I probably wouldn’t have the time, anyway!

Novelist and poet Marge Piercy has a partial solution, which works in her genre. A poem that was published in a literary journal and is later included in a book? She revises the poem before the book goes to print.

Then again, she’s Marge Piercy.

I am, unfortunately, a person who needs deadlines in order to get serious about my work, and my tendency is to be right up against the deadline. As you can imagine, that’s terrifically counterproductive—it gives me no time to let the material sit, to engage my brain in other things, and then to return to the piece to tweak (or even rewrite) as necessary. It’s a discipline I impose on myself deliberately, even sometimes moving deadlines up on my calendar to give myself the space I need for the writing to be polished.

image: Christopher Farrugia for Unsplash

A writing practice, like anything we’re serious about, requires discipline. Some writers have troubles staying present to their work, and need discipline to—as the saying goes—keep the seat of their pants in the seat of their chair. Others discipline themselves to write for a set number of hours, or a set number of words. Me, it’s always: write early, let it sit, then go back to it.

(As an aside, last week for the first time ever, I baked bread. And was immediately struck by feeling the same pattern emerge. You work the dough, and then you let it sit—or “rest,” as some recipes have it). Only after that time can you finish the process.)

What about you? When do you find yourself tweaking your work? Do you edit as you go, or are you more disciplined than I am and step away from it?

image: Birmingham Museums