The Anatomy of an Edit: A Day in the Life (Draft Four)
If you walked into my study on a Tuesday, you wouldn’t find a writer lost in a flow state. You would find a woman who looks like she’s trying to solve a cold case.
While the "creative" part of my brain gets to play during the first few drafts, the review and revision process is where my M.A. training takes the wheel. It’s a transition from being a creator to being a critic. For me, the review process isn't just about fixing typos; it’s about testing the structural integrity of the narrative.
The Morning: The "Cold Eyes" Read:
I never review work I wrote the night before. I need the distance. My day begins at 8:00 AM with a printed copy—never a screen.
* The Silence Test: I read the script aloud. If I stumble over a sentence, the sentence is broken.
* The Logic Check: I use a "continuity tracker." If a character mentions a specific historical detail in Act I (based on my genre research), I verify its payoff in Act III. If the thread is dangling, it’s cut.
The Afternoon: The Macro-Micro Shift:
By 1:00 PM, I move from the broad story arc to the granular detail. This is where the Draft 4 to Draft 5 transition happens. I utilize a specialized revision matrix to ensure no element is neglected.
| Review Layer | Objective | The "Emily" Method |
| Pacing Audit | Ensure the "rising action" is consistent. I map the script's tension on a graph to visualize the slope. |
| Dialogue Strip | Remove "on-the-nose" exposition. I cover the dialogue and see if the scene still makes sense through action alone. |
| Genre Fidelity | Verify the script meets (or intelligently subverts) genre conventions. Cross-referencing my research notes on archetypal story beats.
The Evening: The "Kill Your Darlings" Hour:
The hardest part of my process is the evening cull. This is when I look at the scenes I love most—the ones with the cleverest metaphors or the most poetic descriptions—and ask: "Does this move the needle?" If a scene doesn't serve the story arc I meticulously researched, it goes into a "scraps" folder. My postgraduate mentor used to say that a script is finished not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away. By 7:00 PM, the floor is usually littered with discarded ideas, and the script is five pages lighter. It’s painful, but it’s the only way to reach that elusive, polished Draft Six.
Why I Repeat This Five Times:
I do this because I believe the audience deserves a story that feels inevitable. By the time I hit my final draft, every word has earned its place through a rigorous "survival of the fittest" review. It’s not just writing; it’s a distillation of intent.
- Emily Faulkner -
04/02/2026
