I have the manuscript of a novel that I’ve been sitting with for a couple of years. I’ve gone through it a couple of times and done small revisions. This year, my teaching consumed me. I didn’t have the time and energy to look at the novel one more time. Now, the school year behind me, I’ve picked it up again, and I’ve started to read it back to front. Which is to say, I’ve broken the book down into its major parts, and I’ve been reading it in reverse sequence. I’ve started at the end to see where the book landed, paying close attention to the main character arcs, and then I’ve asked myself how each preceding section is crucial to the novel’s end. I’ve gone through the entire manuscript this way, and I want to share with you some of my reasons for doing so and some of the discoveries I’ve made in hopes my revision strategy might prove fruitful for you.

I like this strategy because it lets me read the book with fresh eyes. Reading front to back seems too familiar, and I find myself reading with a less than critical perspective. Reading in reverse chronological order makes the book just strange enough so I can really think about how all its parts work, or don’t work, to create a unified whole.

I find myself reading more slowly because it’s impossible to think about what lies ahead when everything lies behind. When I read more slowly, I catch things I’d otherwise miss because, again, reading front to back makes the narrative too familiar to me. I find myself speeding ahead without thinking, sometimes even skimming passages because I’ve read them this way so many times.

When I read back to front, I’m also more aware of the timeline, and, in this case, I’ve already found a few problems with that. I’ve also found parts of the narrative that need to be dramatized earlier in the book. I’ve even found new scenes that need to be written. Finally, I’ve caught some repetitions and redundancies that need to be excised.

The bottom line is this revision strategy allows me to be more open to changes because I’m no longer reading in a first-this-happened-then-this-happened sort of way. Instead, I’m reading with a this-happened-because-this-happened sort of way. The causality of the narrative stands out in bolder relief. If character motivation is thin, I notice it. If the timeline is funky, I catch that, too. If there are gaps to be filled, I’m more aware of what’s missing.

“Nothing is ever so good that it can’t stand a little revision,” says Rebecca Solnit, “and nothing is ever so impossible and broken down that a try at fixing it is out of the question.” We all have our unique revision methods. The best one is the one that works for you. However you decide to approach the work, it’s important to be looking at the manuscript with fresh eyes as if you didn’t write it but are now a reader who must be satisfied. If you feel yourself cringing or mumbling or shaking your head no, ask yourself why. Then set about the work of smoothing out the rough spots to create as perfect of a read as you possibly can.