There comes a point in revision when you can no longer see the work clearly. You have become nose-blind to the stink in your manuscript. You already know what every chapter is supposed to accomplish, coupled with all the back-pocket knowledge: the histories, motivations, and connections that may or may not have made it onto the page. All of it is still fresh in your mind, and it becomes nearly impossible to experience the book as a reader would.
This is one of the great dangers of revision: the writer begins reading the intention behind the prose instead of the actual page. At that point, the best revision tool is not another pass through the manuscript. It is distance. You need enough space that, so when you return, you are no longer reading the version you remember writing. You are reading the version that actually exists.
I have three tried-and-true methods for creating that distance: time, a removed point of view, and place. Ideally, you will use all three together for a concert of …
