Tighter Writing: Sharpening Historical Fiction in the Edit

One of the most important lessons new writers learn during editing is this:
the story you love is not the story you keep.

That’s not a judgement on your talent. It’s simply the reality that first drafts are generous creatures. They explain. They wander. They repeat themselves politely, just in case the reader wasn’t paying attention the first time.

Editing is where historical fiction comes into its own. It’s where tighter writing transforms a well-researched manuscript into a compelling story that moves, breathes, and trusts the reader to keep up.

Let’s look at how cutting the unnecessary, sharpening exposition, and refining description can dramatically improve pace and impact—without stripping your story of its historical richness.

What Do We Mean by “Tighter Writing”?

Tighter writing doesn’t mean shorter for the sake of it. It means every word earns its place.

In historical fiction especially, there’s a temptation to show the reader how much research you’ve done. Uniforms, dates, ranks, street names, weather patterns—all fascinating, but not all needed right now.

Tight writing asks one question repeatedly during editing:

Does this sentence move the story forward, deepen character, or sharpen atmosphere?

If it doesn’t, it may be quietly escorted out.

Spotting Words That Aren’t Pulling Their Weight

Many sentences survive first drafts simply because they sound “writerly.” Editing is where you politely but firmly show them the door.

Common culprits include:

• Fillers: very, quite, rather, somewhat

• Redundant qualifiers: he nodded his head, she thought to herself

• Unnecessary stage directions: characters constantly standing up, walking over, turning around

Example

Before (first draft):

He began to slowly walk over towards the wooden door.

After (tighter):

He crossed to the door.

Nothing important was lost. In fact, the sentence now moves at the speed of the action.

As a rule of thumb: if removing a word doesn’t change the meaning, it probably didn’t need to be there.

Show vs Tell: Exposition That Breathes

Historical fiction relies on exposition—but how you deliver it matters enormously.

“Telling” isn’t wrong. Sometimes it’s necessary. The problem comes when telling replaces drama instead of supporting it.

Telling (informative but flat)

The men were exhausted after weeks of fighting and low morale was spreading through the unit.

Showing (same information, more impact)

Boots dragged through the mud. No one spoke. Even the jokes had run out.

The second version trusts the reader to understand what exhaustion looks like. It also feels like a scene rather than a report.

When to Move the Story Along

Not every historical detail deserves a full scene.

Ask yourself:

• Is this moment changing anything?

• Does the character make a decision here?

• Is tension increasing?

If the answer is no, summarising may be the stronger choice.

Example

Slower version:

They spent the evening discussing the route, the risks involved, and the possibility of ambush at length.

Tighter version:

They agreed on a route and prepared for trouble.

You haven’t removed the planning—you’ve simply respected the reader’s time and kept the story moving.

Tighter Description Makes Stronger Atmosphere

Description is often where overwriting hides most comfortably, especially in historical settings. The goal isn’t to catalogue a room—it’s to select details that create mood.

Before

The room was small, dark, cold, poorly furnished, and smelled of damp stone and old wood.

After

Damp stone walls closed in on him, the cold seeping through his coat.

Fewer details, stronger image. The reader fills in the rest—and that involvement makes the scene more vivid.

Trust the Reader (They’re Smarter Than You Think)

One of the hardest lessons in editing is learning to trust that the reader will connect the dots.

You don’t need to:

• Explain every emotional reaction

• Repeat historical facts once they’re established

• Remind us constantly of the political situation

Tighter writing respects the reader’s intelligence and rewards their attention.

And as a bonus, it makes your pacing sharper, your scenes leaner, and your storytelling more confident.

Final Thought: Editing Is Where the Story Emerges

First drafts are about discovery. Editing is about intention.

Tighter writing doesn’t erase your voice or your research—it reveals them more clearly. Each cut strengthens what remains. Each choice brings the reader closer to the heart of the story.

So be ruthless, but kind.
Your historical novel will thank you for it.