Welcome back to our series on How To Self-Edit. We’ve already covered:
Today we’ll talk about flow and pace, a duo of story elements that influence how excited or bored our audience will be while reading our books.
Define Flow and Pace
Pace is the speed/tempo at which the story is told.
Meanwhile, flow is all about revealing information in an easy-to-follow and logical manner.
We should strive to keep our readers invested by offering them just enough information and action to keep them hooked. Give away the crux of the plot too soon, and they won’t read to the end. Bore them to death by not giving enough info, and the book will end up on their DNF pile.
We want to hurl roadblocks and obstacles at our characters, sure, but never at our readers.
When editing flow and pace, we note anything that might confuse, bore, or pull the reader from the story.
Elements that Alter Flow and Pace:
Info Dumps
We all know we’re supposed to avoid these, but the question is how?
Also, so many books that go viral have massive info dumps (I’m looking at you, Ready Player One). If they can get away with it, so can I. Right?
Well, we could. The problem is that we’ll lose readers along the way. Sure, it’s impossible for everyone who reads a book to love it—we’re all just too different for that—but don’t we at least want to try writing books that will appeal to wider audiences?
Whenever we have to read long info dumps, our eyes gloss over a bit. Not only do they slow down the pace, but they hinder the flow.
Here’s a fact. When a story features multiple lengthy info dumps, some readers jump forward until they see quotation marks, and read on from there. By piling on pages of information, we’re forcing our readers to leave out chunks of the story that might as well not have been included in the first place.
So, what to do with our info dumps? When planting a herb garden, we don’t water our plants once and call it a day. We add water, fertilizer, and such as needed.
We pass information to our readers in the same way.
When editing info dumps, leave only the information necessary to make a scene work, and deliver the rest in small fragments here and there. Later, if we need to elaborate on a subject, we throw in a few more fragments.
Sometimes, we want to slow the pace. Maybe we have a small info dump in our books to do just that. But keep them short. A sentence of information sprinkled here and there will go the distance.
Repetition
We all repeat words and phrases. It’s human. But the thing about repeated words and phrases is that it becomes jarring. (I don’t mean intentional repetitions—this segment deals with those things we don’t mean to repeat.)
The minute a reader thinks Hey, I’ve read this before, they’ve been pulled from the story. Most readers have a subconscious reaction where they’ll actively look for more instances of the repetition. That’s human, too.
Few readers can lose themselves in the story if something about the story pushes them away.
One of my favourite authors (no naming and shaming here) used an incredible metaphor to show the emotion in someone’s eyes. It was great. I realised again how great it was the second time she used the same metaphor. By the third time, I was keeping a tally. Throughout three books, this same metaphor pops up 8 times. Instead of being the powerful metaphor that showed me exactly what was going on in the character’s expression, it yanked me from the story. I still enjoyed the book, but I couldn’t submerge in the world. The book would’ve been so much more amazing sans the repetitions.
We should keep an eye out for other repetitions, too. Maybe we show the emotions our characters are experiencing by always having them look at or look away from someone. Maybe we use the same words to describe the room from different narrators. Maybe we repeat information already given in info dumps. I’ve been guilty of all three of these things. (And I have a great resource to combat this problem! Check out my Writing Emotions series here.)
Repetitions reduce impact. If we default to flowery metaphors, for example, the reader will become so used to it that they miss the instance we needed that metaphor to kick. But if we save those punch-packing moments, they’ll hit home when they must.
Lastly, you wouldn’t think it, but repeated sounds in words can also become jarring. Let’s say, that after using the simple past tense for the last five chapters, we write the next chapter entirely in the continuous tense. The constant repetition of -ing, -ing, -ing starts to sound like a lullaby and the reader loses interest.
Nine out of ten times, if one of my beta readers points out a scene they found boring and there is no info dump, it’s because I used words repeating the -ing sound. This also applies to scenes with too many made-up words, or technical jargon.
Pleonasms (Redundancies)
She blinks her eyes. They stood up. Her heart sped in her chest. Any one individual could do that. They were surrounded on all sides.
Each sentence above features a pleonasm. What else would she blink but her eyes? The only way to stand is up since it’s an upward motion. Hearts are always found in chests, except when they’re being transplanted or medically studied (or eaten by an enemy 🤣). One and individual mean the same thing. And when we’re surrounded, it’s usually on all sides.
Pleonasms slow the pace and stifle the flow because they tend to be overly wordy. We want to use as few as possible words to convey our message, especially since many editors charge per word. Remove words and save money.
Other redundancies include:
- Sitting/dropping/hunching/lowering/descending down (because these are downward motions). Also, swaying side to side, nodding up and down, etc.
- As an extension of the point above, nodding heads (because what else would we nod?). Also, pouting/smiling lips, blinking eyes, grabbing hands, etc.
- Small/large in size (because small and large already tell us what the size is). Also, round or square in shape, fast/slow in speed, etc.
- “Yes,” she agreed (because ‘yes’ already tells us she’s agreeing). Also, “No,” he denied, “Why?” she questioned, etc.
- Whispered quietly (because a whisper is always quiet). Also, running quickly, shouting loudly, considering thoughtfully, etc.
I have a great post on pleonasms with a much longer list of examples here.
I do want to note here that people tend to use pleonasms in speech, so it’ll lend our characters believability if they do, too. Also, if we write in a conversational first POV, allowing the odd pleonasm to slip into the narrative could make our characters seem more human.
The keywords here are sparingly and purposefully.
Breaks
This is one of the more obvious elements that can alter pace and flow. Jumping from a viewpoint character in the heart of the action to one knitting in front of the TV will slow the pace, and vice versa.
Generally, breaking scenes or shifting to new chapters increases the pace and urgency (especially if we end on a good hook), while we can slow things a bit by allowing for longer scenes and chapters.
Beware, though. Too many breaks are choppy and will read jarringly. Imagine a poorly edited montage of short clips—it’s no fun to watch when the visual changes before we get a moment to understand what we’re seeing.
Too few breaks can drag out the story. Experience talking here, but the reader doesn’t need to see the narrator getting out of bed, brushing their hair and teeth, getting dressed, etc. Many of us feel the need to waffle on instead of saving time (and words) and placing a break.
Chronology
No matter what kind of time-bending chronology we write, we must still deliver information to our readers in a manner that makes sense and progresses the overall plot.
Some authors indicate non-linear timelines with labels—past, present, two months later, etc. Others don’t point out that the story doesn’t unfold chronologically and allows the reader space to figure it out. I’ve read stories that use both methods and don’t have an opinion on which is better.
All that matters is only including scenes that are important to the story.
Punctuation and Grammar
Short, choppy sentences can increase a story’s pace, but can also become jarring and break the flow. Meanwhile, flowery run-on sentences can bring the pace to a grinding halt, while doing wonders for flow.
The same applies to where and how we use punctuation, our word choices, or paragraph lengths.
A quick grammatical edit is one of the fastest ways to fix most flow and pace-breaking issues in a work in progress.
For example, removing passive voice dials up the action and amps up stakes, using stronger verbs cuts out unnecessary words, and clear sentences give the reader the information they need, fuss-free.
And that’s all I have for you today. Do you have anything to add? I love hearing from you!
Until next week.
Yolandie






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