Revise. Revise. Revise.
November is for speed. December is for clarity.
After 30 days of sprinting through NaNoWriMo—50,000 words, countless cups of coffee, and characters who sometimes took on lives of their own—December arrives like a deep breath. Not a pause, exactly, but a return. A re-seeing. The moment when we turn back toward the pages we’ve just created and ask the hardest, most hopeful question in writing:
What does this story want to become?
Revision is where the real writing happens. Drafting is discovery—glorious, messy, momentum-filled discovery—but revision is transformation. This month, I’m embracing the slow, steady, deliberate magic of shaping raw pages into something truer, stronger, and more resonant.
If November was about showing up, December is about staying in the room—and daring to rewrite.
Revising The Hurricane’s Daughter

One of the editors there looked at my manuscript and said: “You’ve got a powerful voice and a gripping story—but it’s hiding inside too many words.”
She was right.
So I trimmed. Cut the filler words. Removed metaphors that were lovely but unnecessary. And tightened every verb until the story moved with the propulsion of a true YA adventure thriller.
My original 80,000-word manuscript is now on its way toward a sharper, leaner 60–70k—exactly where a story like this lives best. This revision round feels less like editing and more like uncovering the version of the book that always wanted to exist.
Book Spotlight: The Hurricane’s Daughter
(YA Adventure Thriller)
Thirteen-year-old Willow Drake never wanted to spend Thanksgiving in Florida—least of all with the father who abandoned her and her twin brother, Ash. But when their grandfather’s sudden surgery forces them south, Willow braces for a tense, awkward reunion. What she doesn’t expect is a hurricane, a heist, and a past their father can’t outrun.
The ocean is ruthless. So are the men hunting them. And the deeper Willow wades into Florida’s tangled backwaters, the more she realizes this fight isn’t just about survival—it’s about facing the ghosts that brought them here.
With a storm behind them and a past they can no longer outrun, she must decide: keep running, or fight for the family she’s not sure she can trust.
If you want to join the wait list, go here: www.lsscott.com
Craft Studio: Revision as Revelation
Revision isn’t cleanup. It’s excavation.
Here are a few ways to approach your draft with a sculptor’s hands instead of a cleaner’s gloves:
1. Identify your story’s heart.
What is this book really about? Circle the chapter where the emotional truth hits you hardest. That’s your north star.
2. Raise the stakes.
Look at each scene and ask: What does my character stand to lose here?
What might they gain?
If the answer is “not much,” deepen it.
3. Trim the beautiful clutter.
We all have lines we love. December is the month to ask:
Does it serve the story—or just my ego?
4. Strengthen the spine.
Check the structure:
Does the plot escalate?
Do turning points turn?
Does the ending echo the beginning?
Revision Exercise:
Pick one messy scene. Rewrite it on a blank page—fresh, without copying anything over. Compare the two versions. This is where your true voice often emerges.
Language Studio: Precision, Power & Nuance in Revision
Revision is where language tightens, deepens, and begins to carry weight. This month, we’re focusing on the kinds of stylistic decisions that separate an early draft from publishable prose.
1. Replace Vague Verbs with Purposeful Motion
Most verbs sit on a spectrum—weak → neutral → charged.
Example:
looked → neutral
glanced (fleeting), studied (lingering), glared (hostile), searched (active, intentional)
Challenge yourself to choose verbs that reveal intent, not just action.
Exercise:
Replace the bold verb with a verb of intent:
“She looked at the storm clouds gathering over the pier.”
What changes if she scanned, watched, tracked, feared, or measured them?
Each one shifts character psychology.
2. Identify “Phantom Adjectives”
These are adjectives that pretend to clarify but offer no real image:
big, small, strange, beautiful, dark, bright, sudden, quiet, emotional
A phantom adjective disappears under pressure. Replace with sensory or specific detail:
“a strange sound” → “a metallic clicking, too quick to be human”
“a beautiful sunrise” → “pink light threading through the mangroves”
Mini-Challenge:
Rewrite this line without phantom adjectives:
“He felt a sudden, sharp fear as the dark figure approached.”
3. Use Syntactic Gravity
Sentences have momentum. The end position carries the greatest weight.
In revision, move your most important word or image to the final position.
Compare:
“The storm hit before Willow tied the final knot.”
“Before Willow tied the final knot, the storm hit.”
The second version lands harder because storm hit sits at the end.
Try It:
Rewrite this sentence to place the emotional weight at the end:
“She realized she had been wrong about him all along.”
4. Create Micro-Suspense with Strategic Delay
Suspense isn’t only for plot-level moments. Line edits can carry tension.
Weak:
“A shadow moved in the doorway—a man.”
Stronger:
“A shadow moved in the doorway.
A man.”
Short beats. Implied threat. Controlled reveal.
Question:
Where can you break a line in your current chapters to add micro-suspense?
5. Choose Metaphors That Work Twice
A strong metaphor does two jobs:
- Reveals the moment
- Reveals the character
Example:
“The boat lurched like a startled deer.”
– a character who thinks in land and wildlife imagery.
Versus:
“The boat lurched like a loose wheel on asphalt.”
– someone whose frame of reference is mechanical or urban.
Your metaphors should whisper something about who’s speaking or observing.
Mini-Challenge:
Write a metaphor for fear from the perspective of your protagonist.
Advanced Language Quiz
Choose the strongest option for a tense, atmospheric YA thriller moment:
The wind ______ through the mangroves, carrying the warning with it.
A. moved
B. whispered
C. threaded
D. sifted
(Correct answer: C. threaded — the verb conveys precision, tension, and movement through tight spaces, fitting both setting and tone.)
Sentence Surgery: Deep Revision for Writers Who Want Stronger Prose
Welcome to the operating table. This is where line-level decisions turn competent writing into unforgettable writing.
Below are the techniques professional editors use to intensify tension, sharpen voice, and refine emotional impact. Each example is crafted for atmospheric YA/upper MG adventure–thriller prose—your lane.
1. Locate the Sentence’s “Pulse” and Rebuild Around It
Every strong sentence has one dominant element—an emotion, image, or action with the highest voltage.
Draft:
“Willow felt scared as the boat started rocking harder in the growing storm.”
Find the pulse:
emotion + instability + storm pressure.
Surgery:
“Fear tightened in Willow’s chest as the boat pitched into the rising storm.”
Why it works:
Pulse at the end, verbs sharpened, sensory detail added, internal + external tension aligned.
2. Cut the Neutral Zone (Words That Say Nothing)
Common neutralizers: began to, started to, seemed to, almost, suddenly, actually, very
They drain immediacy.
Draft:
“Ash suddenly started to run before the man could grab him.”
Surgery:
“Ash bolted before the man could grab him.”
Why it works:
Action is immediate. Verbs do the heavy lifting.
3. Swap Abstractions for Anchors
Abstractions: fear, danger, anger, confusion.
Anchors: breathlessness, trembling hands, swallowed words, the metallic tang of adrenaline.
Draft:
“Fear washed over her.”
Surgery:
“Her pulse jumped, breath tightening like a fist inside her throat.”
Why it works:
Fear becomes embodied. Reader experiences, not observes.
4. Increase Tension by Shortening the Distance Between Subject and Verb
Clutter between subject + verb drains urgency.
Draft:
“Willow, despite everything she’d been told and all the warnings echoing in her mind, stepped forward.”
Surgery:
“Willow stepped forward, ignoring every warning in her head.”
Why it works:
Impact comes earlier. Tension moves faster. Sentence no longer fights itself.
5. Create Rhythm by Varying Sentence Length Intentionally
A tense moment benefits from rhythmic contrast.
Draft:
“The water rose quickly and the deck began to tilt which made it difficult to keep her balance.”
Surgery:
“The water rose fast. The deck tilted. Willow lost her balance.”
Why it works:
Staccato rhythm mimics danger.
Three beats, rising intensity.
6. Use the Drop-Line Technique for Emotional Shock
When a revelation needs power, give it a line of its own.
Draft:
“He pulled the box from his jacket and when she opened it, she saw the arrowhead.”
Surgery:
“He pulled a small box from his jacket.
Willow opened it.
The arrowhead lay inside.”
Why it works:
Visual. Cinematic. Weighted.
This is how you score emotional impact on the page.
7. Internal + External Action Pairing (the Thriller Secret Weapon)
For high-stakes scenes, pair an internal reaction with an external movement.
Draft:
“She panicked as she turned toward the rail.”
Surgery:
“Panic sparked. She lunged for the rail.”
Why it works:
Cause and effect tightened.
Emotion fuels motion → motion heightens emotion.
Perfect for storm, chase, or confrontation scenes.
Sentence Surgery Challenge: Perform Three Cuts
Try this paragraph:
Draft Paragraph:
“The storm was getting worse and Willow felt terrified. She tried to see where Ash had gone but everything was too dark to make out. The boat was rocking more now and she almost fell when she moved toward the bow.”
Your Task: Apply three surgeries above.
My example solution:
Revised Paragraph:
“The storm intensified. Fear knifed through Willow as she scanned the dark for Ash—nothing but black water and rising wind. The boat lurched, hard. She staggered toward the bow, nearly losing her footing.”
Notice how the revision uses:
Pulse-first structure
Anchored emotion
Active verbs
Shortened subject-verb distance
Controlled rhythm
Micro-suspense
This is the level of line work that creates a publishable manuscript.
From My Desk: A Month of Quiet Work
This month has been full of quiet, behind-the-scenes writing work—the kind no one sees but every writer feels. My desk is scattered with printed chapters full of inked margin notes, coffee rings, and sticky tabs in every color. Some days the progress is steady. Some days I rewrite a single paragraph ten times. But every day, I feel the story getting clearer.
Between rounds of revision, I slip outside for long walks where the best ideas always seem to find me, and then I hurry home before they disappear.
December is the month where writing becomes craft again. And I’m loving every slow, deliberate minute of it.
Book Recommendation: On Writing and Rewriting

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
If December is the month of revision, then this book is the perfect companion. Lamott’s wisdom about messy first drafts, telling the truth, and taking the work “bird by bird” is grounding and encouraging—a reminder that every book you love started as something imperfect.
For a more technical revision craft book, I also recommend:

“The Artful Edit” by Susan Bell — a brilliant guide to sharpening narrative, shaping structure, and elevating prose through revision.
Stay in Touch
Hit reply and tell me:
What part of revision do you secretly enjoy?
Sharpening a sentence? Deepening emotion? Finding the real story hidden beneath the early draft?
I’d love to know.
~ L.S.