The Tense Decision

How I accidentally wrote a better book by undoing all my past choices.

May 05, 2025

person in yellow coat standing on top of hill — Photo by Justin Luebke on Unsplash

Dearest writer,

This week, I’m going over my whole manuscript line by line, changing it from past tense to present tense.
Does it sound like a lot? It is.
Did I plan for this? In a way, I guess I did.

When I first started writing the novel, I chose to try it in past tense. You know, like all the traditionally published authors do. I’m an indie romance author, and most romance novels like mine are written in present tense. Most of my own novels are in present tense.

But I wanted this one to stand out. So I thought I’d try a little experiment, figuring if I didn’t like it, I could always change it.

I’ve done this before. When I wrote Forever Thirteen, I started in present tense. Back then, I’d mostly written in past tense, so I wanted to test something new. But the experiment didn’t work, and I ended up taking the painstaking effort to change every line.

What I came away with, though, was a super clean draft of my novel.

So, as I wrote my current novel in past tense, I knew that worst case, I’d have to do the same thing—which would just result in a very edited draft.

Last week, I sent the manuscript out to beta readers. I was already feeling doubts about the tense, especially when Emily Henry—a traditionally published author—released her latest book in present tense.

What? This is surely against the norm, right? I actually felt a little betrayed. I was trying to sound like someone like her, someone with a big fat schmancy publisher—and here she was treading into indie author territory with her present tense stories.

Then one of my beta readers sent feedback about the tense. It was one of the things I’d asked them to pay attention to, and she could tell right away that it wasn’t working.

So now I’m going through the story, line by line. And in the process of changing the tense, I’m also finding all the little things I missed when I thought it was “done.” I’m smoothing out sentences, fixing inconsistencies. I even found a chapter where I’d called one character by a completely different name.

And here’s my takeaway:

The best writing often comes not from the first decision, but from the one you make after learning more.
You’re allowed to course-correct.

When you’ve written 80,000+ words, it can feel daunting—or even too late—to make a big change. A lot of writers get stuck here, afraid of the time, the effort, or the possibility of making it worse.

But here’s the truth: changing it means you’re paying attention. And if it’s wrong? You can change it again.

You’re allowed to do what feels true for your story, even if it means doing the hard, unglamorous work. Even if you end up changing it back.

Because you are the author.

So if something feels off in your story, trust your gut. Experiment. See how it feels to change things up. Get outside opinions if you need them. But at the end of the day, this is your story. You get to make it what you want it to be—
no matter what tense it’s in.

Until the next chapter,
Crissi

The Tense Decision

How I accidentally wrote a better book by undoing all my past choices.

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