I have been a writing coach for over twenty years. During that time, I’ve spent countless hours working with students, editing and revising their work. As I often tell them, “We first take your rough draft and make sure it has a beginning, middle, and end. Then we go through the piece again and again, refining each line until the words are so taut they bounce off the page.”

What I didn’t expect when I started coaching was how much editing other people’s work would benefit my own.

Like most writers, I didn’t begin by loving revision. I’d write a piece, polish it a bit, and—though it wasn’t perfect—declare it good enough. The last thing I wanted was to dive back in, examining each line to be sure it said what I meant or hunting for the one word that fit better than all the rest. That felt like drudgery.

But as I honed my skills to serve my students, I noticed something surprising. My own writing was improving, too. I began to appreciate the discipline of revision, to see how much beauty and precision could emerge from that painstaking attention to detail.

Now, I look forward to revising. I know the secret I didn’t understand before: revision is like an artist sketching in charcoal and then returning with color. The sketch may be strong, but the painting brings it fully to life.

That is where the fun lies—slowing down, adding depth, layering in the details so the reader can see, taste, touch, hear, and smell what’s on the page. Revision turns a quick sketch into a color-rich painting worthy of hanging on the living room wall.

And all it takes is the willingness to revise.