As a little kid, it was so exciting to be able to just write complete sentences that the idea of having to actually revise them seemed like a daunting task. That's how I felt the year I entered second grade, when our teacher, Anne (we called our teachers by their first names at Stevens), made all of us write original stories that we would later "publish" using colored poster board and a type of duct tape that served as binding.

As a second grader, writing an entire story was a challenge, and the idea of revising something I wrote perplexed me. Wasn't it perfect the way it was? What really needed improvement? Needless to say, there was a lot that needed revising--especially the very unique way I'd decided to spell the plural of the word "penny" in one story.

After second grade with Anne, writing seemed like smooth sailing. She'd prepared us for what was to follow, and she gave us a token of our hard work in our "published" books. When in fifth grade we were assigned the task of writing our autobiographies (an arduous task, no doubt, given the utter madness life can throw at you in your first ten years, *ahem*), I didn't feel overwhelmed with the process of revising. I was beginning to see why people made revisions, and how their work was improved as a result.

Over time, figuring out how to say exactly what you want to say in as few words as possible becomes easier. When you look at your writing, you know what words should be eliminated, and why, right away. But sometimes, when faced with a new project, even grown-up copywriters find themselves scaling that steep learning curve all over again. Part of the problem is that you need to revise with an eye for concision as well as the goal of the task at hand. For example, if your client wants something clever, there's the pressure to both say what you need to say, and also be witty (or serious, or entertaining--it all depends on the project).

Revising doesn't mean just eliminating words. And simply eliminating words can strip copy of its meaning. As Jason of 37signals points out, revising within the confines of what you've already created sometimes leads to total confusion.

Jason suggests a simple--but perfect--solution: start fresh. If what you're working on is not working for you, you've become limited by the requirements of the task itself. Jason of 37signals put it best: "I don't want to be influenced by what I thought I had to say before. I want to think about what I want to say now." Don't be afraid to go back to the drawing board, and just start all over. The second grader in you will feel a lot less overwhelmed.