Get Off Your Pedestal and Be a Professional: Revising My First Novel

What endless revisions, difficult feedback, and a little humility taught me about writing

Thursday greetings, writers!

I have a question for you: How many times can you revise a novel before you're officially done?

I'm learning the answer is: an infinite number of times.

I finished the "zero" draft of my first novel in May 2025. Well, technically it's not my first attempt at writing a novel, but it's the first one I've managed to finish with a cohesive story arc that I feel good about.

Since then, I've revised it, sent it to a developmental editor, revised it again, enlisted beta readers, revised some more, and paid for a manuscript assessment. Then I revised it again.

You get the picture.

Just a fraction of the notes, outlines, and revision trackers I've accumulated while working on this novel.

At several points along the way, I thought I was getting close to having a submission-ready manuscript. And at several points, I discovered just how wrong I was.

But the biggest lesson wasn't about how much work revision requires. It was about how tightly I'd been holding on to a story I thought I was perfectly willing to change.

Revising the novel: the feedback just keeps coming

The editor who'd assessed my manuscript had liked it. A lot. She told me she loved my main character, the writing, the arc, the dark details -- enough that I had an opportunity to submit it to her team for consideration for direct submission to a select group of literary agents.

Writers, I nearly fell to the floor.

There were no guarantees that any of those agents would be interested, of course. But the possibility of getting my manuscript in front of them without having to go through the usual slush pile? Yes, please!

Unfortunately, the team passed.

And they sent me a list of notes explaining why. While there were many nice and encouraging things in the feedback, my brain latched onto the seemingly endless list of what was wrong.

Ouch.

Around the same time, a story coach I'd been working with read my synopsis and detailed outline and returned some extensive feedback of her own.

Suddenly, I was staring at the prospect of yet another round of major revisions. Not just tightening scenes, polishing prose, or fixing continuity issues. We were talking about rethinking some fundamental elements of the story.

And I wasn't sure I wanted to do it.

I almost shelved the novel

Here's the thing: I hadn't started this novel with the expectation that it would necessarily be published.

After several previous attempts at writing novels that never quite came together, I wanted to learn how to take one all the way through the process, from first draft to agent submissions. That was my goal.

And I'd already accomplished a lot of it. I'd finished a complete manuscript, worked with professional editors, learned from beta readers, and revised more than I'd ever imagined possible. I also learned that to get the novel submission ready, I would have to revise even more.

Maybe that was enough of a lesson.

I spent about a week debating whether to put the manuscript away and move on to another project. I had other ideas waiting, and I'd already planned to work on a different novel during the next six-month revision accountability group.

But there was something nagging at me.

The feedback wasn't unreasonable. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I agreed with much of it.

I'd always considered myself someone who was open to feedback and willing to make changes. And I was, to a point.

What I hadn't realized was how fiercely I'd been protecting certain decisions I'd made about the story. I'd become attached to things without even recognizing that attachment.

Then I remembered a quote pinned to the bulletin board in my office: "GET OFF YOUR PEDESTAL AND BE A PROFESSIONAL."

The reminder that's been hanging on my bulletin board for years. Sometimes I actually listen to it. :)

I don't remember where I first heard it, but I wrote it in ugly handwriting on the back of a notecard, pinned it near the top of the board, and it's been hanging there for years.

To me, being a professional writer doesn't mean having all the answers or getting everything right the first time. It means showing up and doing the work, even when that work is frustrating, uncomfortable, or not particularly fun.

In other words, stop whinging about it. Put your butt in the chair, your fingers on keyboard, and do the actual work of being a writer.

So I decided to give the novel another chance.

Loosening my grip on the story

Before diving back into revisions, I met with another story coach to talk through some ideas that had emerged from all the feedback. I wanted to explore what might happen if I made changes I'd previously been reluctant to consider.

And something changed inside me.

Instead of asking how I could preserve the story I'd already written while addressing the feedback, I started asking why I was so determined to preserve certain parts of it in the first place.

Did that character really need to make that choice? Was that plot point essential? Was I keeping a particular scene because it served the story or because I'd worked so hard to write it? Was I resisting adding a character or twist because it meant more work?

Once I started asking those questions, I discovered possibilities I hadn't considered before.

And the more I loosened my grip on what I thought the story had to be, the more room I made for what it could become.

I ended up changing some pretty significant elements of the manuscript. Not because I blindly followed every suggestion I'd received, but because the feedback helped me see opportunities to make the story richer.

Of course, that meant more work. A lot more work.

A writer (not me!!) working on revisions. I wish this were my workspace. I'm much messier!

So much so that I stopped writing novel two and changed my plans for the next six-month revision accountability group, which I was now helping lead as an instructor. Instead of revising my second story, I returned to the same manuscript I'd thought I might shelve.

And I revised. And revised. And revised some more.

So, am I finally done?

Well, I hope so!

The latest version of the manuscript is currently in the hands of two trusted readers. I'm hoping their feedback will confirm that major revisions are (finally) behind me and that I'm ready to start querying agents -- though tbh, I haven't fully decided whether this is the book to query or not, even if it's "done."

In other words, it might end up on the shelf. Which could be the right call. Not all first novels are the first novel an author publishes.

I also know that if I sign with an agent, there may be more revisions. And if I'm fortunate enough to sell the book to a publisher, there will definitely be even more.

Ultimately, I've come to accept that revision isn't always about fixing what's broken. Sometimes it's about being willing to question what you thought was working.

And sometimes the hardest part isn't making the changes. It's letting go of the certainty that you had the story right in the first place.

I still don't know whether this novel will ever be published. But I do know it's a better book than it was six months ago, and certainly better than the 140k-word zero draft I finished in May 2025.

More importantly, I've learned something about myself as a writer. Which is what I set out to do with this book!

I'm not nearly as open-minded about my own stories as I thought I was. But I'm getting better.

And the next time I find myself resisting a major change, I hope I'll remember to ask myself why.

After all, there's a reason that quote is still hanging above my desk. :)

xxoo,

CCK