Before we dive into the lates craft post, I wanted to let you know that my brand new Mindful Flash Fiction Course is starting in 10 days and it would be great to have you with us. This course is for you if you sometimes feel caught in the cycle of writing to prompts, polishing drafts and sending them out, and seeking validation rather than finding deeper meaning in your work. It combines my 15 years of award-winning flash writing and publishing knowledge with mindfulness practices to help you write with more presence, authenticity, and emotional depth and feel more joy in your creative process.
If you ask ten writers about their favorite part of the writing process, I bet revision wouldn't top many lists. First drafts have that intoxicating creative energy. Final versions give us that satisfying sense of completion. But revision? That's where the real work happens. I may be the odd one out as editing is my favourite bit!
The truth is, revision is where flash fiction finds its power. When every word must pull its weight, the difference between the right word and the almost-right word (as Mark Twain put it) isn't just a matter of style – it's the difference between a story that works and one that doesn't.
So let's look at how to approach revision to take promising drafts into polished gems that resonate with you as you create them and with the readers they reach.
Finding Your Emotional Core
Before you start tinkering with sentences or hunting for better words, it’s important to take a step back and figure out what your story is really about. Not the plot or situation, but the emotional heart – the thing that made you want to write this piece in the first place.
Ask yourself:
What feeling am I trying to evoke?
What truth am I trying to reveal?
If I could only keep one moment from this story, which would it be?
Why does this story matter?
These questions might seem abstract, but they really help. Once you've identified your story's core, every revision decision becomes clearer: keep what serves the core, cut or change what doesn't.
I recently worked with a writer who had a beautiful, lyrical piece about a family gathering that somehow felt unfocused. When I asked her what the story was really about, she thought for a moment and said, "It's about the moment my father showed vulnerability for the first time." That clarity helped her reshape the entire piece around that emotional truth, cutting lovely but unnecessary elements that didn't serve the core.
Sometimes you'll discover you've begun your story in the wrong place. Many flash drafts start with too much setup, when the real story begins several paragraphs in. Be ruthless about identifying where your story truly starts – often it's much closer to the action or emotional center than you initially thought.
The Revision Toolkit
Once you've identified your core, you can move to more specific revision strategies. Here are some approaches that I’ve found to work well for flash fiction:
Word-level precision
In flash, every word must earn its place. Look for:
Unnecessary adverbs and adjectives. Not all modifiers are bad, but any you include should be essential. "She walked slowly down the hallway" might become "She crept down the hallway" – stronger verb, no adverb needed.
Empty phrases. "The fact that," "there was," and "it seemed like" take up valuable space without adding value. "There were three birds on the wire" becomes "Three birds perched on the wire."
Repetition that doesn't build. Often repetition in flash creates powerful emphasis or rhythm. Other times, it's just saying the same thing twice. It’s important to spot the difference.
Generic language. Replace vague terms with specific ones that create stronger images. "The old house" might become "the thatched cottage."
Sentence variety
The rhythm of your prose affects how readers experience your story emotionally:
Mix sentence lengths. A series of sentences all the same length creates monotony. Short sentences among longer ones create emphasis. A single long, flowing sentence amid choppy ones creates breathing room.
Vary sentence structures. If you notice many sentences following the same pattern (subject-verb-object), shake things up with questions, commands, or different arrangements.
Read aloud to catch awkward rhythms. Your ear will often catch what your eye misses.
Paragraph structure
Paragraphing in flash isn't just about grammar rules – it's a way to control pacing and emphasis:
Consider one-sentence paragraphs for key moments. They stand out visually and create natural pauses.
Use paragraph breaks to signal shifts in time, perspective, or tone. In flash, these transitions often need to happen quickly.
Think about white space as an active element. The breaks between paragraphs or sections create room for readers to process and anticipate.
Story architecture
Looking at your piece as a whole:
Ensure your beginning hooks and your ending resonates. These start and finish are vital in flash.
Check that every scene or moment contributes to the core. If it doesn't, no matter how beautifully written, it probably needs to go.
Keep the voice consistent. Shifts in tone should be intentional, not accidental.
Make sure your title is working hard. In flash, titles can carry significant weight – they can provide context, establish tone, or even deliver information that doesn't fit in the word count.
Common Flash Fiction Problems and Solutions
Over years of teaching flash fiction courses and workshops, and reading story submissions, I've noticed certain issues appear repeatedly. Here are some common problems and approaches to fixing them:
Exposition-heavy openings. Many drafts begin with background information before getting to the story. Solution: Cut the first paragraph (or two) and see if the story still makes sense – often it works better starting further in, with exposition woven in later if needed.
Endings that explain too much. Trust readers to understand the significance of what you've shown them. Solution: Try cutting your final paragraph and see if the ending becomes more powerful without it.
Character overload. Flash fiction works best with a limited cast. Solution: Combine characters who serve similar functions, or remove those who aren't essential to the core story.
Abstract language that keeps readers at a distance. Solution: Replace general statements about emotions or situations with concrete details that evoke those feelings.
Weak imagery. Solution: Replace generic descriptions with specific, sensory details that do double duty – showing both the physical world and emotional subtext.
Forgettable titles. Solution: Try out at least ten alternative titles, pushing beyond your first ideas to find one that adds a new dimension to your story. Someone told me once that often your title is hidden somewhere in the final lines. I find calling on writing pals for input is always a great idea too.
Revision Exercises
Ready to transform your drafts through revision? Try these exercises:
Radical Cut: Take a draft of and cut it in half without losing the core story. This forces you to identify what's truly essential and what's expendable. You might find your shorter version is actually stronger than the original.
Opening Overhaul: Rewrite the opening paragraph of an existing story three different ways: with action, with dialogue, with a striking image. Which creates the strongest entry point? Which best serves your story's core?
Detail Audit: Highlight every descriptive detail in your draft. For each one, ask: Does this advance character, story, or theme? Replace any that don't with more purposeful details.
Sentence Variety Check: Analyse the first five sentences of your story for structure and length. Rewrite to create more varied rhythm if needed, then apply the same approach to the rest of your piece.
Title Lab: Come up with ten possible titles for your story. For each, consider what aspect of the story it emphasises and what expectations it creates. Choose the one that adds the most value.
Revision as Discovery
One of the most exciting aspects of revision is that it often leads to new discoveries. As you dig deeper into your draft, you'll find connections and meanings you didn't consciously intend. Follow these threads – they often lead to your story's most powerful elements.
I used to see revision as simply fixing problems in an existing draft. But now I understand it as a continuation of the creative process, where the real story often emerges through successive iterations. Sometime, only a sentence or two from the original draft will remain.
Revision doesn't need to be a chore. It can be a process of excavation, uncovering the true story beneath what appeared at first draft. It can be a process of distillation, concentrating your language until it reaches its most potent form. It can even be playful, as you experiment with different approaches to the same story and characters.
I encourage you to develop your own revision checklist based on the patterns you notice in your writing. We all have habitual weaknesses – my early drafts always have too many sentences of the same length and not enough sensory detail or inner world for the characters. Knowing these patterns helps me address them systematically.
I'd love to hear about your revision discoveries. What techniques have most improved your flash fiction? What surprising things have you found in your drafts through the revision process? Share your experiences in the comments!
Happy revising – and remember, this is where the magic happens.
With love,
Thanks Amanda, That's really helpful.
I love editing. It is where the magic happens.