Celeste Ng's novels take years. Everything I Never Told You went through four full drafts across roughly six and a half years, and the structure changed completely each time. Her method leans on writing scenes, then cutting the ones that turn out to be scaffolding.

The Direct Answer
Ng writes several full drafts over years, rebuilding the structure each pass and cutting scenes she only needed in order to find the story.
Everything I Never Told You took about six and a half years and four radically different drafts, by her own account in interviews.

Four Drafts, Six and a Half Years

Everything I Never Told You wasn't written once and polished. Ng wrote four full drafts before the book sold, and she's said each one was radically different from the last. The whole thing took her about six and a half years. Between drafts she'd sometimes step away to work on short stories when she needed a change of pace, then come back to the novel.

The hardest part, by her own account, was structure. She kept reworking how the book moves between past and present, whose voice carries which moment, and what actually belonged in the story at all. She's compared her approach to building a wall the slow way.

My process is more like painting every brick as I lay it, when maybe getting all the walls up first would be smarter.

Celeste Ng, Fiction Writers Review

One breakthrough on that last draft came away from the desk entirely. Trying to straighten out the book's chronology, she went to dinner with her husband, hit on an idea, and sketched a diagram on the back of the placemat. She's joked that she couldn't fully explain it afterward, but it helped her finish. She's also described sticking with a slow-growing novel as the closest thing she gets to an experience of faith, the kind of long haul you have to stay zen about.

Cutting the Scaffolding

A lot of Ng's writing time goes into material that never reaches the reader. In one draft she wrote almost two chapters about a character arranging her mother's funeral. Later she realized only a small piece of it mattered, the moment the character sorts through her mother's belongings. Forty-odd pages got cut or condensed down to about three. She had to write those pages to find the ones she needed, then take them back out to make the book stronger. Her phrase for this is that sometimes taking things out counts as writing.

Her drafting leans on story first. She makes up details as she goes so her focus stays on the characters, then circles back later to fact-check herself. Little Fires Everywhere followed a similar arc. She'd been turning the idea over for years, even taking notes when a church in her neighborhood burned, and the book still went through a full draft, a revision, and a pass with her agent. For the wider picture, see the full Celeste Ng writing routine.

What You Can Steal