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'Sensitivity reader' is an often misunderstood term in the literary world, and something that many people are unsure whether they need.

If you're not sure what a sensitivity read is, or what a sensitivity reader does, or you're conflicted about their role in publishing, then read on.

In this guide we will be exploring:

●      sensitivity reading and the debates in favour and against this service

●      steps to deciding if it's right for you

●      and tips for finding and working with readers appropriate to your needs if you so choose

What Is A Sensitivity Reader?

A sensitivity reader is a professional who looks at unpublished manuscripts primarily through the lens of authenticity, cultural sensitivity and better representation of marginalised groups. This doesn't just mean race or disability, it may include topics such as eating disorders, post-traumatic stress disorder, mental illness, gender transition, or chronic illness.

The sensitivity readers, who all have first-hand experience with such challenges, then provide feedback to the author.

Because of the nature of children's literature and the fact that many touch upon sensitive topics, sensitivity readers are often used to read middle grade fiction, young adult fiction, and other genres such as historical fiction and science fiction. Diverse books can traverse all genres, in fact, they should, so it's important that everyone from early readers to marginalised groups see themselves represented fairly and accurately in all books.

They will likely be informed by any relevant lived experience details in the manuscript but will also be a match based on familiarity with the genre of the text.

They can in some ways be considered a specialist subset of beta readers, in that they review your work and offer insight to strengthen the content of your writing. Their reflections are often informed by experiences of discrimination and rely on using emotional labour to communicate feedback on experiences relating to marginalisation.

Thus sensitivity reading is considered a skilled service and should be treated as such. This is why it's important to pay your sensitivity readers, much like you would if you wanted to run your crime thriller past a legal professional or private investigator to check for authenticity.

What Do Sensitivity Readers Do?

A sensitivity reader essentially reads through an unpublished manuscript; this could be a full novel, an article, a series of short stories etc, that they have not actively engaged with as customers or readers themselves.

They read with an editorial eye to provide constructive feedback framed by questions of mis-representation. Their feedback may be on descriptive terms, behaviours of characters, or descriptions of structures or the restrictions they live within.

They are informed by experience with literature, perhaps as a reader, writer or editor, but also their lived experience, as well as shared experiences and discussions within their networks. These networks could be made up of friends, family and/or larger social/political groups.

The ultimate intention of working with a sensitivity reader is to pursue accurate representations and an inclusive reader experience by creating characters for people who identify in similar ways to the character, and not just for people who might find that character interesting.

Examples Of What A Sensitivity Reader Does

Sensitivity readers can pick up on many things, such as strange descriptions of clothes, food, or hairstyles from a particular culture.

So if, for example, you saw a hairstyle you liked and wanted to feature a character wearing it, a sensitivity reader could tell you the name of the hairstyle - how it's described and the actions a person wearing it may naturally undertake as part of your story.

They might identify behaviours of a character that may be deemed unlikely when contextualised from a person in a marginalised group, e.g. women jogging at night with headphones on, mental health struggles being resolved overnight etc. Essentially details within a manuscript that might pull a reader out of their suspended disbelief (at best); or that a reader might find offensive or triggering (at worst).

These sorts of details that contribute to a feeling of misrepresentation can derail an experience and become a fixation of readers- and those discussing a manuscript. The last thing an author wants is for their novel to be dismissed, not for the writing or themes, but because of inaccuracies with characters and cultures.

So if in some instances, the details flagged are offensive and hurtful, perpetuating harmful stereotypes or platforming dangerous behaviours, then this work with a sensitivity reader could provide the author with an opportunity to make changes that can prevent the author from causing pain, and receiving criticism from readers after publication.

That said, as with all feedback solicited for unpublished manuscripts, it is up to the author to decide what they will and will not incorporate into their final work. But it is worth noting that this step is growing in popularity as a way to support diversifying content in publishing while providing more authentic and sensitive representations.

How To Decide If You Need A Sensitivity Reader

Are you a writer who wants to craft a diverse world that's dynamic and engaging but features realities outside your lived experience?

Is your work something you have constructed primarily through your imagination or observations without intimate insight through lived experience?

If these imagined constructions are grounded in our world, with the privileges and prejudices faced by real people, describing the experiences of diverse characters from marginalised groups, you might want to consider working with a sensitivity reader.

And if you're still not sure, ask yourself this:

If you were writing about nuclear energy in any great detail, but have never studied science in your life, would you want to run a few things past a scientist first?

You would? Great!

Then that's no different to asking people from certain backgrounds and minorities to confirm that your depiction of them is accurate.

What's The Difference Between A Sensitivity Reader And An Editor?

So I hear you say, ‘provision of feedback on the quality of writing, that's what editors are for!’ and you would be right, but not all authors work with editors, and not all editors provide sensitivity reading. This is in part due to an editor's more general, rather than specialised, review of the work, and partly due to the lack of diverse representation in publishing.

Some pushback against sensitivity readers is that this service can be seen as outsourcing diversity, as a bandaid to the larger issues with the sector workforce.

Some are frustrated that editors from diverse backgrounds are being encouraged into more precarious work and required to use lived experiences of trauma and discrimination as part of their professional practice. While others celebrate this as a meaningful way to acknowledge and value knowledge gained through lived experiences and note that if the practice becomes more mainstream it will be integrated with more security into the publishing industry.

For an author considering working with a sensitivity reader, it would be worth considering the feedback type your existing editor (if you have one, or beta readers if you go down this route) provides and if you believe they already offer this service.

If not, a sensitivity reader could support you with a better representation of diverse characters.

Sensitivity Readers vs Censorship

For some authors, the idea of a sensitivity reader feels uncomfortably close to censorship, and for some readers, the use of sensitivity readers brings concerns about disguising harmful views held by authors through quick fixes.

In both instances, this is a question of trust; trust from an author that a sensitivity reader will respect their work and only provide necessary and useful edits; and trust from readers that publishers won't facilitate the exploitation of marginalised stories by authors who clearly intend harm.

Trust is not something that can be easily created, it requires nurturing. For authors, meet with your sensitivity reader and create good channels of communication, explaining what sort of feedback you are looking for (e.g. general tone, specific elements,  language review). Work towards a relationship of trust and mutual respect and select a reader that works for you and your style.

And as an industry, we need to work to ensure that sensitivity readers are used ethically, in the pursuit of an inclusive industry and content that provides meaning for people regardless of their lived experiences.

It's hard to know if you are on the right track when writing about marginalised experiences, even if you too share experiences of marginalisation of some sort. But if you are questioning your knowledge or ability to do a story justice - ask yourself whether you are the right person to tell this story, and seek help from someone who understands it better.

Working With Sensitivity Readers: Tips

If you’ve decided that sensitivity readers seem like a good idea, here are a few things to bear in mind:

Pick Your Sensitivity Reader Well

As with beta readers, find someone experienced in reading and editing manuscripts. Someone removed enough from you personally to provide honest feedback without the worry of social repercussions.

Sometimes we can get beta testers who are friends and family to review our writing, but sensitivity reading asks the reader to provide concise and constructive criticism on topics that might cause you offence. So it is best to keep the professional and the personal separate in this case.

Trust And Experience Are Key

Work with someone whose experience and knowledge are as close to the identity of the person you are trying to represent as possible.

For instance, a shared age range, gender, national and racial/ethnic identity - these intersections matter and change what might be perceived as authentic in each situation. E.g. an Afro-Caribbean man is unlikely to be able to provide intimate insight into the experiences of a teenage Nigerian girl, and certainly not as well as a Nigerian woman might.  

Start Early

Engage sensitivity readers as early as possible.

A lot of headaches can be avoided if you run outlines and character descriptions past sensitivity readers before completing a full manuscript based on elements that may have crucial misunderstandings or misrepresentations within them. Start the conversation early and be open to adapting the foundations of the work, especially if the elements you seek clarity on and support with are central to your narrative.

The More The Merrier

You can work with multiple readers if you want more than one opinion, and if you want more assurances that you have done due diligence in your attempt to do a character justice and provide a fair representation of a complex experience.

Be Prepared For Feedback

Be prepared to have reactions to the edits and suggestions.

Try not to perceive this as a personal criticism, judgement or accusation. Understand that the reader is responding to the manuscript with fresh eyes for a particular purpose.

Take time for your emotional response and then decide which elements of the feedback you would like to incorporate into the final text. Remember that this process provides an opportunity to make changes, and is a means of seeking information and insight- but ultimately the author is the author and what you write needs to feel right to you.

Frequently Asked Questions

Below is a quick guide to some of the most asked questions about sensitivity readers:

What Is A Sensitivity Reader?

A sensitivity reader is a professional who looks at unpublished manuscripts primarily through the lens of authenticity, cultural sensitivity and better representation of marginalised groups. They then provide feedback to the author.

They are often informed by their relevant lived experiences of discrimination and marginalisation, and so this is a specialised service and should be paid for.

What Is A Beta Reader?

A beta reader, like a sensitivity reader, is someone who provides constructive feedback on an unpublished manuscript; they focus on providing insight into the perspective of the average or target reader.

Beta readers can be engaged at different levels of professionalism, and can include friends and family, whereas sensitivity readers should be engaged exclusively as a professional service to avoid emotional exploitation or interpersonal complications that can arise from providing constructive criticism around representations of marginalised identities. 

Are Sensitivity Readers Necessary?

They aren't necessary for everyone, but if you are worried about misrepresenting marginalised groups in your writing and want to write for people who are similar to the people you describe, it's important. You are not just writing about these people for others who find them interesting, but describing people whose lives you haven't lived; therefore you want readers who are like your characters to feel fairly represented.

Is Sensitivity Reading About Censorship?

Sensitivity readers provide feedback within the parameters of better representation of marginalised identities, but the feedback they provide is optional for the author and not a mandate.

It is often a provider of insight, context and information that can be used to enrich the author's existing and future manuscripts. 

Why allow misrepresentation or inaccuracies to taint your work when they can be easily checked at the beginning of your writing journey?

Sensitivity Readers Are Useful For Every Writer

Hopefully, you now have some deeper insight into sensitivity reading and can decide if it is a service that you might like to pursue.

But whether or not you decide to use a sensitivity reader, it is good practice to consider the representations in your manuscripts and how these might be received by contemporary audiences.

Working towards better representation doesn't mean getting rid of problematic and complicated characters, but it encourages this action to be intentional and to serve a narrative purpose without unintentionally replicating harmful stereotypes.

Perhaps this is work that you can do by yourself, or with supportive resources. Perhaps your editors or beta readers will support this practice. But maybe this could be the job for a sensitivity reader.

If you Google the phrase “the best writing is rewriting” you’ll find no agreement about who said it first. Hemingway,  Robert Graves, and Truman Capote are just three of the famous candidates. But that doesn’t matter. What does count is the way this quote resonates. When it comes to the importance of book editing, there is near universal consensus. It’s an indispensable part of the writing process and it’s where much of the best work is done. This guide will help explain why editing is so important, how to edit effectively, and the ins and outs of editing a book for publishing  - whether that be with a traditional publisher or self-publishing.  

Why Is Editing Important?

Writing a book is one thing. Reading a book is something different. It’s manuscript editing that creates the bridge between those two processes. It’s in editing a book that you make sure you are actually saying what you want to say and saying it in the right way. It’s where you get to weigh your words, and make sure they all have the desired impact. It’s where you get to see and remove obstacles between those words and your readers. It’s where you get a chance to enable your book to become the best possible version of itself. It’s where you can turn a book from good to great.  

Which all sounds wonderful. But let’s not pretend it’s always easy or straightforward. It’s also where you will make some of the most important and difficult decisions about your work. It is necessarily challenging, painstaking, time consuming and difficult.  

Fortunately, there are things you can do to make this process easier and more effective. Let’s get to those now. 

The Main Ways To Edit Your Book

The first thing to know is that there is more than one way to edit a book. Here are some of the best methods:

Editing With A Publisher Or Agent

If you’re lucky enough to be picked up by an agent or traditional publisher, you will hopefully get input from a professional who will help get your book ready for the commercial market.  This is the gold standard, in many ways, when it comes to editing a book for publishing. It is a unique relationship because it’s between people who have a special stake in the work in question. However, it’s not the only way to produce results - and often quite a bit of editing goes into a book before it gets through to agents and publishers.  

Beta Readers

Sometimes a trusted friend or fellow writer can provide that second pair of eyes you need to help you see the things you are missing in your book - and also to give you that crucial insight into how it feels to read your book. It can be extremely helpful - although it can also get complicated and it’s important to find the mix of advice and support that works for you. (Try our guide for all the ins and outs of using beta readers, as well as some useful tips on how to approach the process.)  

Editing With A Paid Industry Professional

Many writers find it extremely helpful to hire an independent industry professional to give them a detailed and honest assessment of the strengths and weaknesses in their work via organisations like ours (access our editorial services here). The advantages of getting this kind of insight into your work speak for themselves. It can be difficult to decide which editorial service to use, which is where our article about the different types of editing and how to choose between them comes in handy. This article also makes the crucial point that “the right time for editorial input is generally: as late as possible.” You’ll get the most out of an external editor after you have taken your book as far as you can yourself. It’s really important that before you bring someone else in, you make sure you know your book inside out and have taken it as far as you can. Make sure, in short, that you have done the crucial work of self-editing first. The rest of this article will predominantly focus on this part of the process - but some tips will also apply to the other editing methods. 

Self-Editing

This - as the name suggests- is the part of the process that you can do for yourself. Let’s look at it in more detail now. 

How To Edit Your Book

The truth is that there’s no one way to edit your book. If I were to tell you that you can map out every part of the process and systematically tick off every aspect of editing a book by following a simple formula, I would be lying. In fact, the very best guide to how do edit your book is very often your book itself. Which is to say, you have to try to tailor the work you do according to the needs of your manuscript. You need to look carefully at what’s in front of you and take it from there. But there are still several important steps that you can and should follow to make sure you maximise the potential of your writing.  

Take Time Away From Your Book

The first thing to do is nothing. Set your book aside. Give yourself time away from the book so that you can come to it afresh and begin to be able to see the wood, as well as the trees. And perhaps even the path you will need to take through the forest… One of the key elements in editing a book is seeing it clearly. It’s hard to do that when you’re still in writing mode and still in the midst of all those thoughts that crowd around as you get down your first draft. 

Format Your Manuscript

This feels like a very basic step, but it’s important. When you present your book to agents and editors you want it to be as clear and clean looking as possible. And this is also a good part of that process of helping you to see your words anew. If you have them laid out regularly, in a new font, newly double-spaced and with page numbers your own read through of your work will be more productive - and you will hopefully see your words with different clarity. 

Fix Your Spelling And Grammar

Again, this is an important job for when it comes to presenting your book to other readers. You want them concentrating on what you want to say, rather than tripping over mistakes and falling into needless confusion. Reading through with an eye on spelling and grammar rather than all the other questions relating to how to edit a book will also again help you see and think about your work in a new way and spot things you might not otherwise have noticed.  

Read Your Book

I know this sounds obvious, but you’d be amazed at how many people don’t carry out this part of the process. It is clearly a key part of how to edit your novel - but before we get too scornful of those who don’t carry it out, I actually understand why so many writers are reticent here. Much as hearing the sound of your own voice can be painful, reading your words on the page can be discomforting. Once you get to the end of a draft it’s also hard not to feel exhausted - and like you already know your book inside out. But you’ll be surprised at just how many surprises your work can contain. And how different a book can feel when you actually sit and read it from front to back. So do it. Try to put yourself in the position of an editor or first reader encountering your work for the first time and think about the things that will jump out at them. Resist the urge to dig in too deep at this stage. Save the big rewrites for later -  although do make marks and comments and keep a list of things that jump out at you.  

Attend To The Big Things: Voice, Structure, And Character

There are several, important basic questions you can ask yourself when you’re approaching the challenge of how to edit a novel. Of course, editing books is an art rather than a science so these won’t apply universally, but even if they don’t, it may be useful to think about why they don’t matter in your work and what that means about what you should be doing.  

Think About Voice

There are certain questions you can ask yourself when thinking about your use of voice.

Do I know what I want to say, and am I saying it in the most precise, clear and evocative way? Am I using my narrative voice as fully as I can, and have I captured other people’s accurately? Have I got the right voice for the story I’m telling?  

Think About Character

There are lots of things to consider in terms of your characters and how you've shaped and developed them in your book. Here are some questions you can ask yourself:

Are my characters well drawn and convincing both to me and my readers? Do these characters have weight in the world? Can I recognise them as soon as they enter a scene? What about characters' voices, either in dialogue or when looking at the world from their point of view? Do my characters all have unique voices?  

Think About Structure

There are lots of questions you can ask yourself when you're editing/examining the structure of your book, too.

Is my structure working properly, with a good beginning, middle and end? Does it all flow and add up to something? Is it told in the clearest way possible? Does the chronology make sense and is it easy to follow?   

Get Down To The Nitty Gritty: Sentences

When you're editing at the sentence level there are even more things to consider and questions you can ask yourself.

Are the words and images I’m using fresh and vibrant? Have I avoided cliché? Am I engaging my readers’ senses of smell, touch, taste, sound and vision in the right way? Am I tagging every verb with an adverb, and every noun with an adjective? (It may be that many are superfluous, and that with a bit more confidence you can cut them out and trust that your writing is evocative enough to get the point across without them.) Does every word, sentence, paragraph, every bit of dialogue serve a purpose?  

Check Your Dialogue

Are you using prose to break up the dialogue with things like facial expressions, body language, incidental details, internal monologue and physical and emotional responses? Is that working? Are you using lots of emotive dialogue tags, eg gasped, roared, moaned, grumbled etc? Most of the time, you’ll find that it’s best to stick with s/he said which is almost invisible.  

Read Another Article!

Here’s a really useful alternative article on editing. It gets into the nitty gritty of line editing, increasing the force of your sentences, closing your chapter with resonance, and getting your rhythm right. It’s full of food for thought for when you’re really polishing and improving your work.  

Print Out Your Book

See how your work looks on paper. And then, that’s right, read it again. Editing a book is a slow, careful process. Sometimes it can be really helpful to have something tangible that you can feel and hold in your hands. And you can make it fun by experimenting with different highlighters and coloured pens, or physically cutting pages into sections and rearranging chapters or paragraphs.

The Art Of Editing

Before closing let me emphasise again that editing is more of an art than a science. The important things to do are to work with the manuscript you have and edit it according to its needs. Also always try to think of that reader you want to read your work. What do they know, want to know, need to know? What will amuse and entertain them? What will trip them up? What will keep them avidly reading until the end?  

There are many different ways of answering those questions - and different ways of getting to the result you want. Self-editing will help you get a good bit of the way there - but do also keep an open mind about getting more help further down the line.  

Finally, a bit more food for thought and a few articles that will also help you take your work further: 

How to revise a first draft.

How to make sense of proofreading marks.

What is copyediting? 

Developmental Editing: What It Is & Where To Get It.

You've finished your book, you've edited it as much as you can, you're more or less happy with it - but is it any good? Have you achieved what you set out to do? You need to know the answers to these questions before you invest any more time and effort on a book that may not be hitting the right way. You haven't reached the final draft of any book until others have read it too.

Which is where beta readers come in.

What Is A Beta Reader?

A beta reader is someone who's prepared to read your entire manuscript at a point where you feel it's ready to be read, and whose opinion you trust. Whether you know them personally or not, ideally you will have chosen someone who is the same demographic as your intended readership who you know should enjoy your book (you wouldn't ask your 89 year old religious grandfather to beta read your paranormal erotica, for instance). You also need to be able to trust them to give constructive feedback on a number of questions you will ask them prior to reading.

So, if beta readers exist - does that mean alpha readers do too?

The answer is yes - but they're slightly different. Whereas beta readers come in to play once the book is complete and you need someone just like your readers to look at the entire book with fresh eyes, an alpha reader is generally someone who is there at the beginning of your book's journey, helping you shape the story from the onset. For some writers this may be their agent, for others a close friend they like to bounce ideas off, or even a fellow author who always helps with plotting, language and pacing.

Alpha readers are important - not just to help you get your book off the ground but for motivation and resilience too - but it's beta readers who will direct the next stage of your writing journey. They are the one who will help perfect your latest draft into hopefully the last draft. It is your beta readers who stand between you and an agent, editor or your readers.

Why Are Beta Readers Important?

You may be thinking 'my book is done now, why would I risk a load of criticism at this stage after spending so much time on it?' The answer is that if you don't get feedback on the initial draft of your novel, you run a higher risk of agents, editors, and eventually readers having the same problems with it too.

A beta reader is not there to tell you your writing is bad - they are there to answer specific questions so that you can be happy in the knowledge your book has achieved what was intended.

How Many Beta Readers Do I Need? And How Much Do I Have To Change?

The answer to both of these questions is the same - it's totally up to you. I would suggest you ask at least three to five beta readers to read your work at one time, perhaps a mix of friends, family and other writers. And remember, you are simply garnering opinions...it doesn't mean you have to act on every one of their comments.

With my last novel I sent it out to five beta readers and most of them said the same thing about the same parts (which means they were totally right, it needed changing). Other times their opinions were contradictory, meaning they were approaching the book from different angles. At this point I asked myself what was subjective and what was something I was comfortable changing.

Where Do I Find A Beta Reader?

If you are a new writer, the idea of anyone reading your work may be terrifying - let alone someone who then has to give you feedback. The easiest way to find fellow-minded readers is to join an author community. At Jericho Writers we offer free membership to our writers community, with thousands of people at different stages of their writing journey coming together looking for help, support and even to swap books and get feedback.

Likewise you can join one of the many writing groups on Facebook, follow the #WritingCommunity hashtag on Twitter and Instagram, or join a local writing group.

Then simply take a deep breath, be brave, and befriend other writers. I strongly recommend you look for others who write the same genre as you, and are also at the same stage of their journey as you.

If this is your first book and you have no agent or deal in place, it's highly unlikely that a published author with three bestsellers under their belt will have the time to read your book for fun. They will probably already have a team of their own beta readers, critique partners, and an agent to guide them. Likewise, you should be seeking out writer friends to grow with so you can share the same trials and tribulations together as you progress on your writing journey.

You can also ask friends, family members, or even your social media followers if they'd like an early glance of your book in exchange for feedback. You' be surprised how honoured people feel when asked and how eager they will be to be part of your process!

Do I Have To Pay Them?

No. Because a beta reader is normally a friend, a fellow writer, or already a big fan of your work they should be happy to help. Although they may ask you to repay the favour by reading their book too, and /or thanking them in the acknowledgements.

Is A Beta Reader The Same As A Sensitivity Reader?

No, although you may want to hire one at the same time as having it beta read. A sensitivity (or 'authenticity') reader is paid and they are vital when covering topics, themes, and/or characters that you don't have personal experience of.

Hiring a sensitivity reader is no different to paying a lawyer to double check your legal crime thriller, or a police officer checking for any inconsistencies in your detective novel. For instance, if you're a straight, white, man and you want to feature, say, a gay Indian girl with disabilities in your novel - it's a really good idea to pay a disabled queer Indian person to read your book and check that you haven't misrepresented an entire community.

Like beta readers, a sensitivity reader is not there to silence you or censor your writing, they are there to strengthen the contents of your book. As authors we are all free to write about whatever we want, but if you want to cover themes that involve aspects of life you haven't had direct experience in, it always helps to work with those who have, in order to add a level of authenticity, accuracy and (most importantly) respect to your work.

Unlike beta readers, sensitivity readers are paid and often someone you don't know. That way they can offer feedback that is unbiased and fair.

How Do I Work With My Beta Readers?

A beta reader is not:

An editor

A proofreader

A sensitivity reader

All of those jobs are performed by a paid professional who is there specifically to look at structure, spelling, or a certain theme that they represent. A beta reader is simply a friend, book-lover or fellow writer, who will read your book and give you their opinion of it based on a set of questions you have prepared for them. They will understand that this is not the very first draft...but likewise, it's not the final one either. It's a few drafts before the final one, where you still have the chance to move things about and hone characters and plot points.

Because this person is someone you have recruited, like with anything it's important to be respectful with them and clear about your needs. If they are a trusted friend or fellow author, they may have asked for a favour in return (ie 'please beta read my wip too' or 'mention me in the acknowledgements') and all you have to do is honour that agreement.

But if you have put together a group of beta readers made up of people you don't know well, you may wish to create a Facebook group, and clearly state the guidelines. Within those guidelines will be what you need from them, a deadline for feedback, and what they can expect in return. Likewise, you may want to offer them an agreement or NDA to sign, to ensure your story is not shared outside the group.

NDA templates can be found online. Although, legally, a simple agreement you have drawn up may not carry much weight - it will at least show that you trust them and both parties are clear re: expectations.

What Questions Should I Ask Them?

Are the first three chapters engaging?
If they aren't, then you're in trouble. It doesn't matter if you are trying to grab the attention of an agent, an editor, or someone on Amazon who wants to read the first few pages to get a taste of the novel before buying. If you can't hook your reader in the first three chapters then they won't keep reading. So ask your beta readers whether they were intrigued from the start.

Plot and themes
This is an obvious question - but do they like what the book is about? Is it interesting? Is there anything they would cut that slowed down the story? Or is there more they need you to elaborate on?

Are the characters rounded?
Are they likeable or scary or whatever it is you are trying to achieve. Are their backstories clear? Are they all needed? Sometimes you can combine two characters into one to have them supporting the MC in the same way. Not all characters have to be 'nice' or likeable BUT they do have to be interesting enough that people want to keep reading.

Is the book consistent?
If you are working on a series and your beta readers enjoyed the other books, ask them about continuity. Have you forgotten some world lore? Or do your characters act or sound different this time? And even if your book is a contemporary stand alone, you still need to make sure your world makes sense. You don't have a nurse living in an apartment and halfway through she's a doctor living in a large house!

Worldbuilding
If you are writing fantasy, it's really important that your readers understand your magic system and how your fantasy world works. The same goes if you are writing history - is this world believable and accurate? Again, this is important if part of a series as you need to ensure there's consistency.

Pacing
If it's a thriller, were they on the edge of their seat? If it's a romance, was their heart beating in the right place? Did the story sag in any places? Or was it too rushed or light in other places? Pacing is really important when it comes to engaging a reader and keeping them turning the pages.

Language
Do they like the way the book is written? It's OK at this stage to ask them for any errors they find (ie if the wrong ocean is referenced or a date is wrong) but I wouldn't worry about proofreading as you still have a long way to go until you present a final ms and a lot of the words may be cut anyway.

What they loved and didn't enjoy
And finally, it's a hard question to ask, but knowing what parts of the book they enjoyed and what they didn't enjoy will give you a clear indication of what your final readers will think. Opinions are subjective, which is why it's ideal to have three or four beta readers, and then if they all agree you know it's something you shouldn't ignore!

How I Use Beta Readers

I write both fantasy and thriller novels, and I absolutely love working with my beta readers.

When I was a debut author I put together my own team of readers. I created a blog that explained I was looking for a dedicated team of readers, and I sent it to those who I thought would suit the trilogy best. I literally approached each reader, one by one, from Facebook writing groups and Twitter, ensuring they represented a diverse mix of readers. Those who accepted signed a confidentiality agreement and were added to a Facebook group. I capped it at 25 members and after around three weeks my beta reader gang was formed!

The group lasted a few years, and they were instrumental in helping me develop my fantasy series. I would ask them questions and opinions, I'd run competitions to name a character or to be picked to read an early draft, and in exchange they not only got to be part of my journey but were mentioned in the acknowledgements and all received a free book once it was published.

Having a squad like this (especially when writing YA or fantasy) is really helpful once you are published too, as these readers have supported you from the very beginning and will continue to support you. My team went on to shout about the book online, creating a lot of organic buzz that's hard to build naturally.

Now, five years after being published, I have retained some of my beta readers plus have added lots of fellow published authors and a few friends and family members who want a sneaky peak. I have five key critique partners, all successful authors in their own rights, and we bounce idea off one another as well as alpha/beta read one another's work.

I find it helpful to have a mix of professionals and book-loving friends on my beta reading list as that way I receive feedback in general (ie 'I couldn't put it down' and 'I got bored in this chapter') as well as more structured professional feedback (ie 'the pacing was off in chapters 5-7' and 'the motivation isn't strong enough for the MC in the third act').

Plus having critique partners who are also authors means I get to show off that I have read some of the best author's books years before they make it to the shops! Being part of that book's journey is a real honour!

Find The Beta Mix That Works for You

I hope this article answers all your beta reader questions and has inspired you to put your own group together. Remember to be brave and offer to swap books with a writer who's at the same stage of writing as you...you may be surprised and find they've been just as eager to read your work as you are to work with them! If you don't reach out, you'll never know.

And most importantly, if you don't get all those new eyes on your new book, you may well miss the opportunity to change something fundamental that could be standing between you and your perfect agent, editor, or five star review.

My books and my career would not have progressed as far as they have without my beta readers, and I truly hope you find your perfect gang too. Good luck!

What is copyediting, and why is it a vital part of the writing process?

Before I was a traditionally published writer, I thought that you had one editor. I imagined this editor would give me structural feedback, fix all of my spelling and grammar, and ta da! It would all be ready for the printers. I was wrong, very wrong. Editing isn’t one process; it has several levels to it. In traditional publishing you will receive a structural edit from the editor who has commissioned your work, often a line edit, to check every line to make sure that each sentence is as effective as possible, a copyedit, and finally a proofread.

But whether you are hoping to be traditionally published or are self-publishing your own work, a copyedit can mean the difference between a good book and a great one.

So what is copyediting and why do you need it? Below you will find information on why a copyedit is so important, how a copyedit differs from proofreading, and exactly what a good copyedit involves.

What Is Copyediting?

Copyediting is a process of revision, which focuses on eliminating grammatical and factual errors, ensuring consistency and improved readability.

That sounds straight-forward, yet a copyeditor does more than fix your grammar and dodgy formatting. Yes, they can spot when you’ve written ‘weather’ instead of ‘whether’ and when you’ve accidentally popped an apostrophe for possession in the word its (we’ve all done it!), but they also do so much more.

A copyeditor will notice if you are repeating words. They will spot if in one paragraph you’ve spelled your drink as ‘whiskey’ and in the next chapter it’s ‘whisky’; they might even stop you from writing a sentence that is running on without any punctuation whatsoever so that if you tried to read it out loud your face would be turning blue and you would be on the verge of passing out (see what I did there?).

Consistency also plays a huge part in the copyediting process. Your copyeditor will scour your manuscript to spot if your character’s eye colours change from a glacial blue in the first chapter to a muddy brown in the thirtieth, and those all-important moments where you’ve slipped from first person to third person, then back again.

And then, of course, there’s the dreaded timeline. The word a lot of us flinch at the mere mention of! Yes, your copyeditor will be there, calendar in hand, to tell you that those dates don’t fit correctly with events you have described.

So, let’s look at the copyediting process in more detail.

What A Copyeditor Does

The role of a copyeditor will largely depend on the condition of the manuscript in front of them, where it will be published, and the time/budget available. Their job is to offer revisions of the following key elements:

• Align title order and apply consistency in fonts and headings sizes
• Check and amend spelling and grammar errors
• Check continuity of place/character names 
• Check continuity of character and setting cosmetics
• Improve clarity of language, ensuring the narrative runs smoothly
• Ensure that the correct captions are with the appropriate photograph
• Confirm citations match the content of the reference section
• Highlight potential legal liability, with a view to keeping you and your manuscript safe from possible legal action against you
• Highlight overuse of jargon
• Suggest changes for repetition
• Raise discrepancies in the timeline

When you receive your copy edits back, for the most part, your copyeditor will correct your manuscript digitally with track changes on so you can see exactly where you have made (often laughable) mistakes; remember that character, Brian? Well, you have called him Brain for most of your manuscript, but look, your wonderful copyeditor has ironed out all those Brains for you. Phew!

There are times when your copyeditor will need your input if they are unsure of your meaning, or think rewording a sentence would help make your manuscript run smoothly. They will add a comment on your document to bring this to your attention.

It’s considered quite rare by today’s standards, but should they find themselves working on a paper copy you may find that a copyeditor will use copyediting symbols which a proof-reader may use. In this case, the hard copy would be passed to another editor before it comes to you. At this point some of you may be saying - hold on, I thought a copyeditor was a proofreader? Fear not, my friends, I shall explain all…

Difference Between Copyediting And Proofreading

Remember how I said at the beginning that there are several levels of editing? Well, proofreading is the last one. Once your manuscript has been copyedited, you will now have a revised version of your manuscript. You have agreed/declined their amendments (yes, you can disagree, it is still your book!) it is then time to have a proof-reader examine your work.

You may be thinking - why do I need a copyeditor if it then has to be proofread anyway? 

As we’ve already discussed, a copyeditor’s job is to not only look at spelling and grammar but offer an in-depth scrutiny of your manuscript.

By the time a proof-reader receives a manuscript, it will be an almost finished piece of work; it will have been to typesetting and the pages in front of them (a PDF if it’s a digital copy) will look like the pages in your book.

The job of the proof-reader is to correct any errors that have fallen through the net and they will be focusing on the finished product that is about to go to print. A proof-reader will be ensuring that the house style of the publisher is met. For example, you may have written okay, but your publisher’s house style may be OK. They will look at your page numbers, ensure no pages are missing and even check for repetition of words that sit above each other – often referred to as stacking — in the text.  

At the proofreading stage, there should be no major changes in the text, just the odd one-word correction or possibly a paragraph if it’s deemed necessary. If there are too many errors, a proof-reader may return the proof and request further copyediting. 

In short, a copyedit will contain a vast number of revisions based on the quality of your writing, the content of your story, as well as the layout and any syntax errors.

A proof-reader’s corrections are often minimal as they are working on the final draft of your work.

They are there to put the icing on the cake, to straighten your tie, to make sure your knickers aren’t tucked into your dress before you leave the house.

Why Copyediting Is Important

Copyediting is an invaluable part of the publication process. Without it, you may be sending out a manuscript where your main character is called Brain not Brian, where your characters have the ability to change eye colour at any given time in your novel, and where a year in your work may actually be fourteen months long. You may think your manuscript is ready to be published without a copyeditor, but even the most established and experienced writers make mistakes.

Copyeditors are the quality gatekeepers of the publishing world and may well hold the keys to your success.

How Long Does Copyediting Take?

Writers by and large are an impatient bunch, so how long will you have to wait to have your work copyedited?

For a fairly clean manuscript by a professional author, a copy editor will read approximately 1500 words an hour.

For a less experienced writer on average it would take 1000-1250 words an hour.

If you are thinking of taking the plunge, all reputable copyediting services will be able to provide a quote and an expected delivery date.

Do I Need A Copyeditor?

Whether you are self-publishing or hoping to be traditionally published, copyediting is a vital part of the publishing process. Without it, the quality of your work may suffer and the wonderful story you are telling may be put aside in favour of the enigmatic blue-eyed Brian whose exciting story unfolds over the course of just one year... not a year and two months.

As my own work is currently off to be copyedited, I would like to thank copyeditors everywhere; you are my heroes, and Brian and I are forever in your debt. If your work would benefit from copy-editing, try our copy-editing service. Or, try our line-editing service.

As a new author, there’s nothing more important than a properly edited piece of writing. It can make or break your submissions, and editors on any level, for any project, will no doubt have notes to give you!

While many writers use the Track Changes function on Word, or apps that can add changes or allow for suggestions from editors, there are still some writers opting for old-school hand-written edits.

But why do proofreaders use all sorts of symbols and silly markings to edit your work? More than that, what do all of these marks mean?

These unusual red scribbles are a necessary evil when it comes to your work being edited, and they can mean a variety of things. Let’s go over what proofreading marks are, and how you can best decipher them before your next big round of edits.

What Are Proofreading Marks?

These special signs and symbols relate to sections of your work that need editing or adjusting. This can range from spelling errors to grammatical errors to formatting preferences.

These forms of corrections may be less frequently found these days, due to the progression of “track changes” and “suggestions” in many word processing applications. However, some of the symbols are widely used so every writer should familiarise themselves appropriately. It's also worth noting that some editors that have their own special characters too - so it's important to reach out to your proofreader should you not understand their corrections.

How might these marks be used, and what are some marks that have been universally accepted by editors and proofreaders? Let’s go over these now...

How Proofreading Marks Are Used

Proofreading marks are used by editors to point out changes that need making in your document. They are typically located in the right and left margins of a printed document with pointers to where in the text changes are recommended.

Both copy editing symbols and abbreviations will be found along your margins or in your text and various sentences, and they can mean anything from improper sentence spacing to transposing your sentence in an entirely different way for clarity. 

You will have slashes through words (which means please remove) and abbreviations for formatting changes (such as italics and bold). You will encounter odd squiggles (often meaning “delete” or “transpose”), and your proofreader may even rewrite whole sentences in your margins.

Yes, proofreading marks can be overwhelming, especially if you weren’t expecting so many specific edits! These shorthand symbols took me a while to learn and were more complicated than I expected them to be, so be patient with yourself. Once you've gone through multiple rounds of edits with the same proofreader you'll soon get the hang of it.

What Are The Common Proofreading Symbols?

Here's a comprehensive list of proofreading marks. Note that there are two types - abstract symbols and abbreviations.

• ^   - Insert something, most likely an edit found in your margins
• ㄉ - Delete this word or section; usually this symbol will appear in the margins of your work while there will be a diagonal or straight line through the specific word, letter, or sentence that needs deleting
• [  - Move your writing left
• ]  - Move your writing right
• ] [  - Center your text
• #  - Add space
• eq#  - Make the spacing equal
• bf  - Bold a section of text
• Ital  - Italicise a section of text
• (/) - Insert some parentheses
• [/] - Insert some brackets
• =  - Insert a hyphen
• ;/ - Insert a semicolon
• ! - Insert an exclamation point
• ? - Insert a question mark
• ~  - Transpose (meaning rewrite the sentence, usually)
• ❡  - Begin a new paragraph
• fl  - Flush left, or align the text with the left margin
• fr  - Flush right, or align the text with the right margin
• AWK  - Something about a particular phrase or sentence is worded awkwardly or strangely
• WW  - This refers to “wrong word”, such as using the wrong form of “there”
• WDY  - A particular sentence is most likely too wordy, complicated, or overstated

This is only the beginning of the many possible symbols and proofreaders’ abbreviations. Communicate with your proofreader so you don’t misunderstand any specific symbols. You may also wish to refer to a professional proofreading mark guide, such as this helpful list.

How To Use Proofreading Marks

While they may seem daunting and sometimes discouraging, these corrections are necessary for writers at any stage. No matter how many copy-editing marks you receive, know that you are on track to make your work the best it can be, with the help of a skilled proofreader!

Try our proof-reading service here.

A checklist for your novel or manuscript rewriting process

So you’ve written the first draft of your novel (or other manuscript). That’s great. Congratulations! It’s a big moment.

But now you need to make sure that your novel draft works on other readers as you want it to. Maybe you’ve just about managed to tame your novel, but now you’re facing A Big Revision or Rewriting of your first draft – so where on earth do you start?

Before you edit, revise or rewrite anything, here are some pointers.

Step 1: Read Through Your Book

First, I suggest, you need to do your own appraisal, trying to read your first draft novel straight through, and as much like a reader as you can. I call this “problem-finding”, and by far the best way to do this it on paper, with a pen in your hand.

Using track-changes and comment balloons on screen is a poor second, but possible; either way, you’re trying to record your reactions, as a reader, to the story, not start problem-solving: that comes later.

Also note any wider thoughts that this reading throws up, but don’t then just dive into the most urgent or least frightening job. Because so many decisions and changes will affect all sorts of other things, it’s terribly easy to lose track, get diverted, lapse into fiddling and tinkering, and generally get into a worse muddle than you started in.

Step Two: Organise Your Thoughts

So, first bring all the different feedback you’ve had together, make an enormous pot of coffee or your working-drink of choice, and start sorting it out into rough categories.

• Problems that run all through the story: the order you’re telling the story in doesn’t work; a character is cardboard, or vanishes, a lost-letter plot’s in a muddle; the narrative voice is dull.
• Problems with particular sections: a saggy middle; that scene where the dialogue is flat as a pancake; the too-confusing opening; the crucial but oh-so-difficult sex, or battle, scene.
• Problems of continuity and consistency, such as paragraphing, how dialogue is punctuated, or how you represent dialect.
• What I call “bits”: individual corrections and tweaks, from typos, to one-off clunky paragraphs, to missing research.

Once you have the overall picture, you can sort it out into a to-do list, and decide on the order to tackle your rewrite. The temptation here is to plunge straight into the revision process . . . but you need to resist that. Before you start to edit, revise and rewrite like crazy, you have a little more organising to do.

Step 3: Work From Big To Small

One possibility is to look at your first page, do everything it needs, then move on to page two, but that’s probably not the best way to tackle it.

As with totally renovating a house (only this is one you don’t have to live in at the same time), it’s not wise to do the whole of one room, from damp-course to top-coat, before you start the next. You need to make sure the structure is solid and the roof waterproof, then get the electrician in to move lights and install heating, and only when all that’s done, do you paint the walls and lay carpets.

Whichever order you do things in, any major change probably has ramifications elsewhere. Get into the habit of not galloping off to follow up now, but make a note on your To Do list to tackle it at a logical point.

And although every writer is different, this, I suggest, would be a good order in which to tackle things:

1. Big structural changes. Don’t worry about the close-detail of stitching the sections into their new places, just do the rough carpentry.
2. Any all-through-the-story things which need shrinking, changing or enhancing.
3. Individual work on scenes and sections, now that they’re all in the (probably) right place.
4. Consistency and continuity things which are most easily done when you put on the right glasses and deal with that issue all together: a character’s taste in clothes, say, or the punctuation and paragraphing of dialogue.
5. Just work through from the beginning of your manuscript, and adjust anything that will adversely affect the reader's experience. You could even recruit some beta readers to help you out with this stage.

Step Four: Work In Layers

As much as you possibly can, tackle any particular problem working forwards in the story, so that you stay in touch with how the reader reads. It’s super-important for plots which depend on many other elements of the book (sub-plots, foreshadowing, pacing etc). But it also matters for things like characterisation and setting, because the reader is encountering this person or place in stages, through time: make sure you’re in control of how that knowledge develops.

If it helps you, work through the novel focusing on just one layer: focus on editing Aunt Anita’s character arc, let’s say, or the way you build a picture of 1940s Manhattan. Ignore anything else (good or bad) if it doesn’t pertain to those exact issues.

I know it feels inefficient to “go through the book” so many times, but believe me, you save far more trouble than you spend, because you don’t get in a muddle, duplicate work or cause muddles elsewhere without realising.

Step 5: Re-Read The Entire Text

If you follow the advice above, you’ll have far less work to do once you get to the last stage:

6. Do another straight read-through-like-a-reader, in print or on screen. Use this to pick up any darning-in of the big structural changes that’s still needed, and anything else you might have missed. This also is a very good moment to read it aloud, pen in hand, if you haven’t already: it’s brilliant for picking up typos, and more generally getting outside the novel to read it as if you didn’t write it. Just have a big jug of water to hand.

Step 6: Stay Positive

If all this sounds as if it’s more work than writing the first draft was – you’d be right.

All authors know that writing is rewriting. Revising the first draft of a novel isn’t easy.

True, some rewrite each page or even line, until it’s perfect, then move on, while others hurl a whole first draft down on the page, spelling-mistakes and all, and only then go back and start to hammer it into shape. Still, most would say that they spend perhaps three or four times as long on that rewriting of a page or novel as they did on putting the first version of those words on paper.

But, like most things, rewriting gets easier with time. I hope these steps have given you the support you need to get started. Happy rewriting!

Guest author and blogger Kate Armstrong shares her story of publishing The Storyteller after a manuscript critique from us.

It was 2013. Summer. I was a nervous management consultant who had once, a long time ago, been an English student. I was opening an assessment report on the draft of my first novel.

I’d sent it off for a professional reading a fortnight previously. In that fortnight I’d obsessively researched Jessica Ruston, who would be writing the report. The subjects of her books were very different from mine; maybe she wouldn’t get what I was trying to do. But then again, maybe she would read it and be astounded at my debut genius.

In my wildest dreams, Jessica would declare this was the best writing since Plath – better even than Plath – and I would be turning away agents dangling golden contracts. In my nightmares, the report would come back dripping with pity and rejection.

The reality was of course neither one nor the other. When I summoned my bravery to open the file, I found a thorough, balanced, extremely helpful set of comments. Jessica had understood the novel perfectly well. She pointed out both its strengths and where it was not yet good enough, and mostly I agreed. She found it ‘unusual and thoughtful’, praised the writing, and recommended more work on character and plot. I breathed a sigh of relief, and got to work on the next draft.

Fast-forward three years, and that novel, The Storyteller, is being published by Holland House Books. It has, as they say, been a journey.

Along the way I’ve learned how to take rejection, and how to accept graciously while keeping my hysteria in check. I’ve learned that an agent response of ‘you write incredibly well’ can be immediately followed by ‘but we don’t think we could place this’. I’ve learned how to do social media more effectively and how to write a blog that is true to who I am. I’ve pitched articles to magazines, and some of them have come off.

I feel that I’ve been learning a new trade. Because that of course is what it is; both the writing and the ‘being a writer’. I’m published by a passionate literary independent, but passion does not go hand in hand with a huge marketing budget, so much of the marketing responsibility is mine. That was an eye-opener.

The other eye-opener was how fast the book became an object separate from me. Other people had views on how it should be edited, what the cover should be like, how to market it. Cutting the umbilical cord – seeing it as a product in a market – was something I was unprepared for.

The Storyteller is a very personal book in many ways. It draws heavily on my experiences of mental ill health and its aim, so far as it has one, is to share those experiences with others. It is also a coming of age novel, and a story of friendship, first love and betrayal. Whatever your definition of ‘literary’, it is certainly in that camp. It is, for my sins, narrated in the second person. (I had written it before I read articles advising against.) It is fuelled by atmosphere and character and not so much by plot. It has unsettled many of its readers. I hope it will continue to do that.

But regardless of what it does for its readers, it has already changed my life. That life change is nothing external: I have no idea how it will sell. My dreams are of a prize-winning best-seller, my nightmares that only my mother-in-law will buy a copy. Neither is likely to happen.

No, the change has been inside. Before I wrote it I could not share my life long experiences of depression, and I didn’t believe that I could write. When my publisher offered a contract it took me 18 months to accept; I didn’t think the book, or I, was good enough. Once the contract was signed I was too embarrassed to tell anyone, too ashamed of the content, too scared of what exposure as a writer would mean.

Over the last year I have moved past all of those blocks. I am definitely now ‘a writer’, and that is where I want to be. I have risked sharing some of the things that go on deep inside. I have welcomed other people into my world. Most of all I have built the psychological platform to keep on writing honestly and openly, and in the way that is most true to who I am.

When I handed my wife my five-hundred-page, hundred-fifty-thousand-word completed draft of my first novel, she did three things. She read it. She told me she loved it. And then she gave me the best advice I’ve had in a decade: “Send it to Jericho.”

Context

This wasn’t my maiden voyage. I first learned about the value of rewriting your story—the agony and ecstasy of rewriting, its trials and rewards—more than a decade earlier. Back in 2005 I coauthored a little “business parable” with a friend and managed to secure us a terrific literary agent, who in 2006 sent it round to a handful of publishers in New York and got the following responses:

Editor 1 at Publisher A said no.

Editor 2 at Publisher B said no.

Editor 3 at Publisher C said no.

Editor 4 at Publisher D said no.

Editor 5 at Publisher E said no.

Editor 6 at Publisher F said no.

Editor 7 at Publisher G said no.

Editor 8 at Publisher H said, “This one was pretty interesting. The writing is good, but the payoff was a bit lacking.” In other words…no.

So we took the manuscript back, spent months reworking it, and then in 2007 sent it round to publishers yet again. This time, some of those same editors from 2006 responded, as did a few different editors at some of those publishers, as well as some altogether new editors from entirely different publishers. Here’s what they all said:

Editor 9 at Publisher A (Editor 1’s publisher) said no.

Editor 10 at Publisher B (Editor 2’s publisher) said no.

Editor 11 at Publisher I said no.

Editor 12 at Publisher J said no.

Editor 13 at Publisher K said no.

Editor 14 at Publisher L said no.

Editor 15 at Publisher M said, “Starts out with a bang but loses steam in the middle.” That’s a no.

Editor 16 at Publisher N said, “Liked it, but not quite right for our imprint and the direction we are going in this year.” Nyet.

Editor 17 at Publisher O passed to Editor 18. Who said, “Like it, but couldn’t get other team members enthusiastic about it.” Nein danke.

Editor 4 (back at Publisher D) who’d said no on the first try, said, “It’s very well done, but I don’t think it’s the kind of book that will work well on our business list.” En-Oh.

Editor 5 (back at Publisher E) read the new version and said, “Needs a unique hook or punchline to get people to respond. Writing is great but payoff not strong enough.” Fuggedaboudit.

Editor 6 (still at Publisher F) said, “Saw this twice now. Liked it, but didn’t love it. While I like the message a lot, the story itself seemed a little more didactic and forced than we would like.” Amscray.

Editor 7 (back at Publisher G) said, “Liked it. Wanted to love it, but I’m afraid I just didn’t connect with it. I’ve been incredibly wrong before and probably am on this one, but I’m going to have to pass, with regret.” Don’t let the door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha.

Editor 19 at Publisher H, the same house where Editor 8 had said “This one was pretty interesting but the payoff was lacking” the previous year, said—

Wait, what?

He said “yes.”

The Moral Of The Story

We published THE GO-GIVER in early 2008. It hit some lists, won some awards, and to date has sold nearly a million copies in more than two dozen languages.

But the moral of the story isn’t what you might think.

You’ve heard the stories about persistence— J K Rowling turned down by a dozen publishers. Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen and their goofy idea for a book called Chicken Soup for the Soul turned down by 144 publishers. Harlan Sanders and his recipe for fried chicken rejected more than a thousand times. And so on. The moral is, persist! Believe in yourself! Don’t listen to the naysayers—keep knocking on those doors! Right?

Yeah…but.

Those first eight editors were right to reject our book. To this day I thank my lucky stars they all said “no.” Because if even one of them had said “yes” and we’d published the book back in 2006, it would not have sold a million copies. Maybe a thousand. Or not.

Because it wasn’t ready.

Those eight editors knew something we didn’t know.

And that, that, is to me the moral of the story.

Yes, believe in yourself, believe in your idea, trust that your story is the most fantastic and amazing and compelling story that has come around in years, that the world needs and wants your story. Have unshakable faith in yourself.

But keep one ear open. Maybe both ears. Because there are people who know things you don’t know. And if you want your idea to become all it can be, all it should be, all it was born to be, then you need to hear those things you don’t yet know. Hear them, and act on them.

During those months of reworking that original manuscript, our agent first covered every page with red ink, and I then spent dozens of hours rephrasing, simplifying, compressing, and deleting. Changed one character’s gender. Cut a few other characters altogether. Remember that comment about how “the payoff was a bit lacking”? Right: we tossed out the entire last chapter and wrote a brand new one.

And it became the book it was meant to be.

Which was why Number Nineteen (aka Adrian Zackheim at Portfolio, an imprint at Penguin, now Penguin Random House) said “yes” and launched my career.

Fast forward a decade. By 2018 I’d written a bunch more books, some fairly successful, some not so much, but all of them sharing this in common: they were all shelved on the nonfiction side of the bookstore.

In June of ’18 I set out to do something that terrified me: write a novel.

Harry Bingham is one of my crime-fiction heroes. I’ve loved every word of the Fiona books. I wanted to do something like that. I’ve also come to love Harry’s teaching and coaching. Before starting work on my novel I read his How to Write cover to cover, joined Jericho Writers and watched his video course.

Then I started.

Steel Fear

The story is a thriller called STEEL FEAR, and I cocreated it with a friend, a former Navy SEAL sniper with whom I’ve written before (all nonfiction, till now). He had the basic story idea, supplied technical and background detail, and was a rich source of color and flavor for the world I was building. The actual writing—creating characters, designing the plot, working out the twists and turns, putting flesh and blood and bones on the whole thing, and tapping out one damn word after another—was my job. Here’s the elevator pitch:

A disgraced Navy SEAL stalks a serial killer aboard an aircraft carrier in the midst of the Pacific Ocean.

It took me about fifteen months, from first research notes and scribbles to first draft.

At which point my wife said: “Send it to Jericho.”

Understand, this is something I’ve never ever done before: hired a third-party consultant to critique my first draft. I’ve gotten critique-and-review assistance from my agent, from my publishers’ editors, and from the handful of friends who form my early readers’ circle. This was different: a novel. My first. And a thriller, yet.

I knew my wife was right. I needed professional help.

So in mid-September 2019, I submitted the manuscript to Jericho for a full manuscript assessment.

I don’t think it’s too early to say, that one action has changed the trajectory of my career.

Jericho paired me up with veteran thriller author Eve Seymour, who turned around a lengthy, comprehensive critique within a shockingly short time. (Weeks, not months.)

Eve was most generous in her initial comments, the “What I think is great” part. And then got down to business. Chapter by chapter, page by page, structure, plot, characterization, pacing and tension…she mapped out the entire thing, end to end, from broad-strokes observations to detailed notes.

Her critique was fantastic, phenomenal, incisive, spot on. Kind but ruthless. Terrifying. Galvanizing. Motivating. I saw what was lacking, and what was possible.

Eve helped me see that the story had major flaws. I’d conceived of it as having more or less three protagonists—and you can see the problem right there in the phrase “more or less.” It was vague. Not a clear three-strand braid, but not a clear one-hero thread either. She prodded me to make a clear choice as to who was the protagonist, and then rework everything to serve that choice.

I had way too much backstory. Heaping helpings of unnecessary exposition. The pacing was fantastic toward the end but laborious in the first half. And inconsistent: some scenes zipped along, some dragged or halted the momentum altogether. Plot took way too long to get going. Some subplot threads didn’t really work. And so on.

I had a lot of work ahead of me.

I spent October through the end of the year completely reworking it, in the process shrinking from 152k words to 129k.

On New Year’s Day I sent Draft 2 to my agent.

Who read it. Told us she loved it. And asked for further cuts and revisions.

Her observations ran along exactly the same lines as Eve’s. All I had to do was keep going.

Between January and April I went through two more drafts, in the process taking that new 129k word count to 120k, and finally to 103k. (From the original, that’s about one in every three words chopped. Warning: Many, many darlings were murdered in the course of this production.) Deleted a handful of characters, some of whom I’d thought were “indispensable.” Tightened timelines. Shifted critical revelations to earlier. Rewrote all the murder scenes that were originally told from the killer’s POV to now be from the victims’ POV. Eliminated a prologue I’d thought of as brilliant and riveting but which turned out to be neither.

And so on.

Until, finally, it had become the book it was meant to be.

In June we got a handful of offers, took the one from Ballantine Books for a two-book deal. Signed a contract in early August. The first book of the series, STEEL FEAR, will hit the shelves on August 24, 2021. The sequel comes a year later. With, perhaps, more to follow.

And here’s the cherry on the sundae: we are presently in discussion with three A-list Hollywood producers, all of whom want to bring our story to the screen. The book has, as they say in Tinsel Town, “buzz.” Once a deal solidifies and we know for sure which horse we’re riding I’ll see if we can append that information to this post.

Will the book be a hit? No one knows. Will the screen adaptation really happen? No one knows. But this I know, and know for sure: If we hadn’t gone through all that rewriting, none of those editors in New York would have jumped on it. Not one. And the novel would have ended its days sitting on my shelf.

Writing made the story. Rewriting turned it into the story it was meant to be.

Essentially, writing is rewriting. No story is perfect the first time it hits the page. So if you want to know how to rewrite your book it's just this: listen to feedback, keep your end goal in sight, and get rewriting.

If you think you need copyediting for your manuscript, take a look at our copyediting services. Jericho Writers’ experienced editors specialise in editing both novels and non-fiction and would love to help you with your work. Click here for more.

Developmental editing. Structural editing. Line editing. Copy editing. Proofreading.

Yes, we know: you’ve written a manuscript. You know it needs some kind of professional help. But what kind of help? Copy editing or line editing? Structural editing or developmental support? There seem to be so many options to choose from.

But never fear. We’ll tell you exactly what each of the different types of editing are – and offer some suggestions on what editing you do/don’t need right now.

The good news is that, quite often, you need less editorial input than you might think. (The bad news is that you have to put in a lot of hard graft instead…)

What Are The Different Types Of Editing?

• Developmental editing: checks concept, plot coherence, and character development/arc.
• Structural editing: identifies issues with plot, pacing, characters, settings, themes, writing style.
• Line editing: looks at details line by line.
• Copy-editing: is much as above, except with less attention to line-by-line correction of clumsy writing.
• Proof reading: looks for simple typos or errors in the text.

How Editing Works

Before we go any further, it’s worth explaining the editorial heirarchy. Essentially you go from large to little, from structural to detailed.

So it’s like building a house: you start with foundations, walls and roof. Then you start thinking about doors and windows. Then you start thinking about paints and wallpapers. Last, you go around sweeping up and sorting out any last little snags.

The same thing with editing, where the hierarchy runs roughly like this, from big to small:

1. Developmental editing. Is this concept sound? Does my plot cohere? Are these the right characters for this book?
2. Structural editing. Identifying and addressing any number of issues covering (for example) plot, pacing, characters, character development, settings, emotional turning points, themes, writing style and much else.
3. Line editing: this starts to look at the detail. Is each sentence clear? Are there typos? Unwanted repetitions? Minor factual errors?
4. Copy editing: much as above, except there’s less attention to line-by-line correction of clumsy writing.
5. Proof reading: At the proof stage, you generally expect that all the essential work has already been done, so this is really just rushing around the manuscript looking for last bits of lint to pick off and typos to clear away.

That’s the overview. Not all manuscripts will go through all of these stages – indeed, if you’re doing a decent job as an author then two or three of these stages are probably redundant.

All that said, let’s jump straight into the meat…

Developmental Editing

We’ll start with the biggest, broadest, most sweeping kind of editing you can get: developmental editing. That’s a type of editing that used to have one meaning, but it’s kind of morphed into two distinct beasts for reasons, I’ll explain in a second.

Definition: What Is Developmental Editing?

In the good old days, developmental editing used to have one precise meaning. It now has certainly two, and maybe three.

A. Developmental Editing – Traditional Definition

But we start with the first, core, and most precise definition. To quote the ever-reliable Wikipedia:

“A developmental editor may guide an author (or group of authors) in conceiving the topic, planning the overall structure, and developing an outline—and may coach authors in their writing, chapter by chapter.”

In other words, any true “editing” took place before the writing. It was a planning and design function, in essence. Because competent authors can probably take care of planning and design perfectly well by themselves, such editing was always relatively rare and, in fiction, very rare. (I’ve authored getting on for twenty books now and have never once had a development edit. I’m damn sure I never will.)

B. Developmental Editing As Industry Euphemism

But of course not all authors are perfect and, now and again, publishers have to deal with a manuscript they’ve commissioned, but which turns out to be absolutely dire. Think celebrity memoir of the worst sort. Or a multi-million-selling author who’s long since stopped caring about how he or she writes, because they know the money will roll in anyway.

So what to do?

Well, the standard solution in trade publishing is to do what is euphemistically called a ‘development edit’. What that actually means is that an editor takes on the role of something akin to a ghostwriter. They rip out everything that’s hopeless and rebuild.

I’ve known a Big 5 editor who had done this a couple of times, and he said it was soul-destroying. He didn’t get any bonus for doing the work. He didn’t get a share of fame or royalties. He didn’t go on the chat shows or the book tours. And he was always dancing on eggshells with the Famous Author, because the author in question was very prickly about having his work slighted in any way.

Even though the work in question sucked.

Great.

So that’s the second meaning of a development edit: basically a euphemism designed to disguise what is basically a ghostwriting job.

When Is Classic Developmental Editing Right For You?

It isn’t. You don’t need it.

What you probably need (either now or in due course) is a professional manuscript assessment and possibly some of the add-ons normally associated with developmental editing. But in the classic sense of the term, you just don’t need it. We’ll talk about what you do need right away.

Structural Editing, Substantive Editing, Editorial Assessment

Right. So I’m not a big fan of developmental editing, but I LOVE the type of editing we’re about to talk about. But first up: definitions.

Definitions

Structural editing is, strictly speaking, a set of comments on the structure of your work. That will certainly involve plot and pacing. But it may also include comments on character, mood, emotional transitions, dialogue, character arcs, writing style and much more.

If you’re being strict about it, structural editing should focus only on structure, but in practice editors tend to comment on anything that, in their view, needs attention. (Which is good. Which is what you want.)

Basically, a good structural edit will tell you:

• What’s working (though they won’t spend too long on this)
• What’s not working (this is where the report will concentrate all its firepower)
• How to fix the stuff that isn’t yet right

A good report will quite simply cover everything that you most need to know. It’ll do that from the perspective of the market for books as it is now. So the kind of crime novels (say) that could have sold 25 years ago may not be right for the market now. A good editor will know that, and set you on the right lines.

Substantive editing is basically the same as structural editing, except that technically it doesn’t have to limit itself to structure alone. But since structural editors don’t in practice confine themselves to structural comments, it’s pretty safe to say that, in practice, the two things are exactly the same.

Editorial assessment, or Manuscript assessment. These two things are exactly the same as structural editing. The difference is that an editorial assessment gives you an editorial report, but doesn’t usually also give you a marked-up manuscript as well.

Again, in practice, these things blur into each other. Our own core editorial product is, indeed, the manuscript assessment. The main deliverable there is a long, detailed editorial report on your book. That said, a lot of editors will, if it’s useful, also mark-up all or part of your manuscript. Or if they don’t, they may quote so extensively from your work, that it’s kinda the same as if they did.

In short, and give or take a few blurry bits on the edges:

structural editing = substantive editing = editorial assessment = manuscript assessment

Easy, right?

Is Structural Editing / Editorial Assessment Right For You?

Yes.

Almost certainly: yes.

Now, to be clear, I own Jericho Writers and if you trot along to buy one of our wonderful manuscript assessments, you’ll make me a teeny-tiny bit richer. So in that sense I’m biased.

On the other hand, I just told you not to buy developmental edits, and I’d make myself a LOT richer if I got you to buy one of those things, so I hope I have a little credit in the bank. I’m speaking truth, not salesman yadda.

And the reason I like structural editing so much is that:

1. It is and remains the gold-standard way to improve a manuscript. Nothing else has ever come close. I’m not that far away from publishing my twentieth book. (I’m both trad & indie, and I love both channels, in case you’re wondering.) I’m a pretty damn good author. I’ve had very positive reviews in newspapers across the world. My books have sold in a kazillion countries and been adapted for TV. And every single one of my books have had detailed editorial input. And they’ve always, always got better as a result. Always.
2. It makes you better as a writer. You always emerge from these exercises with new skills and new insights. You will apply those to your current manuscript, for sure, but you’ll apply them to the next one too. The more you work with skilled external editors, the more you’ll grow as a writer. (And, I think, as a human too.)

So that’s why I think structural editing works so well, and for such a huge variety of manuscripts, genres and authors.

When Should You Get Structural Input On Your Work?

Well, OK. The businessman in me wants to say, “Get that input right now. Hand over your lovely hard-earned dollars / pounds / shekels / yen, and your soul and career will flourish, my friend.”

But that’s not the right answer.

The fact is that the right time for editorial input is generally: as late as possible.

If you know you have a plot niggle in Part IV, then fix the damn niggle. Fix it as well as you can. Don’t go and pay someone to tell you that you have an issue. That’s dumb.

Same thing if your characters feel a bit flat, or your atmosphere is a bit lacking, or whatever else. If you know your book has issues, then do the best you can to fix those issues. You’ll learn a lot and your book will get better.

That means, the right time for editorial input comes when:

1. You’ve worked hard, but you keep going round in circles. You’re confusing yourself. You need external eyes and buckets of wisdom.
2. You’ve worked hard, but you know the book isn’t right. You don’t know what’s awry exactly, but you know you need help.
3. You’ve worked hard, you’ve got the book out to agents, but you’re not getting offers of representation. You know you need to do something, but you don’t know what.
4. The self-pub version of 2: you have a draft you’re reasonably happy with, but you’re about to publish this damn thing, and your whole future career depends on the excellence of the story you’re going to serve the reader. So you do the right thing and invest in the product. You’re going to get the best kickass structural edit you can, then use that advice as intensively as you can. (Editing, in fact, is one of the only two things that should cost you real money at this early stage: the other one is cover design. And, no surprise, they both relate to developing the best product it is in your power to produce.)

In short: work as hard as you can on the book. When you’re no longer making discernible forward progress, come to an editor.

And – blatant plug alert! – Jericho Writers is very, very good at editorial stuff. We’ve got a bazillion people published, trad and indie, and the success stories just keep coming.

Developmental Editing – As Premium Manuscript Assessment

I love manuscript assessments – I think they’re the single most helpful thing you can do to improve your work. At their best, with author and editor working well together, they’re like a magic formula for improving your work.

But a lot of people still find them insufficient. In particular, a manuscript assessment might say something like, “Your character Claudia isn’t yet cohering. Here’s what I mean in general terms [blah, blah, blah]. And here are some specific page references which illustrate my general point [page 23, page 58, etc].”

Now that’s helpful, but it still leaves you to do an awful lot. If Claudia is a major character, the specific changes you need to make are likely to go well beyond the handful of examples the editor uses to make their broader point.

So what do you do?

Well, hopefully, you understand exactly where your editor is coming from, and you make the necessary changes, and your manuscript becomes perfect.

Only maybe not. Some people just are helped by having their manuscript marked up page by page. That’s not instead of the more general report. It’s in addition. That way you get to see the broad thrust of the comments, as well as the more specific issues as well.

So you get an overview of (for example) why Claudia isn’t quite working as well as a detailed laundry list of all the specific places where her character grates a bit.

And it’s not just characterisation. It’s plot issues. It’s matters of writing style. It’s sense of place. It’s everything that goes into a novel.

So – and this is because our clients have specifically asked us to create the product – we now offer a version of developmental editing that combines these services in a single package:

• Manuscript assessment – overview report
• Detailed mark-up of your manuscript – literally page, by page
• One hour discussion with the editor, so you can resolve any outstanding questions or niggles you may have.

Pretty obviously, this is a deluxe package and, pretty obviously, it’s expensive. It’s also, honestly, not what most of you need.

Will I Benefit From Developmental Editing, Jericho-style?

As a rough guide, very new writers are probably best off building their skills by taking a writing course or, of course, just hammering away at their manuscript. (That’s still the best learning exercise of all.)

After that, once you have a first, or third, or fifth draft manuscript, it makes sense to get a regular manuscript assessment. That way, you can grasp the main issues with your work and you have a plan of attack for dealing with them.

Because developmental editing is as much concerned both with the broader issues AND with the narrower ones, it doesn’t really make sense to purchase the service until your manuscript is in pretty good shape.

After all, the outcome of a manuscript assessment might be “That whole sequence set on Venus just doesn’t work and needs to be rethought from scratch.” If that’s the case, then having detailed page-by-page comments on the way you write isn’t really going to help you much.

So as a rough guide, you will benefit from developmental editing, if:

• Your manuscript is in pretty good shape (ie: this should be the last major round of work before submitting to publishers or self-publishing the manuscript)
• You want both broad and narrow comments
• You want the opportunity to talk at length with your editor
• You are OK paying for a premium service.

You will not benefit from developmental editing, if:

• Your manuscript is still at a somewhat earlier stage in its journey
• You feel able to handle the narrower issues yourself, so long as you have reasonable guidance from your manuscript assessment report.

Because we don’t want to take your money if developmental editing is not right for you, we have made the service by application only. That’s not because we’re going to stop you doing what you want to do. Just, if we’re not sure whether it makes sense for you to splash the cash, we at least want to be able to check in with you before we go ahead.

Line Editing, Copy Editing, Proof Reading

OK. We’ve dealt with the broader, more structural types of editing. We’re now going to home in on the ever finer-grained types of editing.

We’ll start as before with some definitions.

Definitions

Of the detailed, line-by-line type edits, line-editing is the one that has the broadest remit. I’ll start with proof-reading (the most narrowly defined of these editorial stages) and build upwards from there.

Proof-reading comes at the final stage prior to printing/publication. It basically assumes that the manuscript has already been checked over thoroughly, so this is really only a final check for errors that have managed to slip through the net. (And, in fact historically, the process of type-setting for print often introduced errors, so proof-reading was partly necessary to reverse those. These days, unsurprisingly, you can format a document for print without messing it up.) The kind of errors a proof-reader will catch include: typos, misspellings, punctuation errors, missing spaces, and the like. It’s a micro-level, final-error catching task, and nothing much else.

Copy-editing includes everything included in proofreading, but it’ll have a somewhat broader scope. So a copy editor will also be on the look out for factual errors, timetable and other inconsistencies in the novel, occasional instances of unclear or weak phrasing, awkward repetitions, deviations from house style (if there is a house style), and so on. In the traditional publishing sequence, copy editing will take place after all structural editing has been done, but before the book has been set for print.

Line-editing will cover everything that’s detailed above, plus a general check for sentence structure, clarity and sense. In other words, it is part of a line editor’s job to fix clumsily phrased, repetitious or otherwise awkward sentences. Yes, you the author should not be writing clumsily in the first place, but if by chance you do, the line editor is there to put things right.

Why does anyone ever want or need line-editing? Well, some authors are brilliant at generating character and story, but their actual sentence-by-sentence expression of that story just isn’t so great. In these cases, a publisher will commission a line-edit to put those things right.

The Editing Process: What You Need & When You Need It

Right. What kind of editing you need and should pay for depends on what kind of publication you are looking at. So:

The Traditional Publishing Sequence

The normal publishing sequence (for traditionally published books) would be:

1. Structural editing (ie: a detailed manuscript assessment)
2. Copy-editing (or line editing if the author really needs it, but never both things)
3. Proof-reading

That’s it.

If you are aiming at traditional publication, then you may well need to invest in a manuscript assessment, in order to write something of the quality needed for a literary agent / publisher.

You certainly won’t need copy editing, or anything along those lines. That’ll be carried out, for free, by the publisher down the line. (They’ll also do some more structural editing work too, but don’t worry about that – you can’t get too much, and your book always gets better.)

The Indie Publishing Sequence

Indie publishers, inevitably, focus more on cost-cutting than the Big 5 houses do, so a typical indie process might look simply like this:

1. Some kind of structural support – probably an editorial assessment or something similar
2. Some kind of copy-editing support

If you don’t have the budget for both, I’d urge you to get the structural help: that’s what will really make the difference to the sheer readability of your book. That’s where to spend your funds.

Indeed, though we at Jericho Writers offer a full range of copyediting and proofreading services, I don’t usually advise writers to invest in them at all.

If you are an indie on a lowish launch budget (which is the right kind of budget to have when you’re just starting out), then I’d recommend an editing plan along roughly the following lines:

1. Full editorial assessment, ideally from Jericho Writers (because we’re really good at it.)
2. You then rework your book in the light of what you’ve been told
3. You then give it a good hard proofread yourself for any errors and typos
4. You then enlist the help of any eagle-eyed friends to do the same

That plan won’t give you a manuscript as clean as if you give it the full cost-no-object Big 5 treatment … but it’ll be just fine. Don’t overspend at this stage.

The Indie Publishing Sequence

OK. You know the basic layout of what editing is and when it’s used. Here’s what I think the big questions are.

Developmental Editing Vs Structural Editing

You know my view on this. I think for 99% of you reading this, you are best off (a) working and self-editing as hard as you can yourself, then (b) getting professional input on your work from a structural editor.

That’s going to be miles cheaper and the end result will be better too. Yes, you’ll need to do a lot of work, but you’re a writer. You like work. (If you don’t, you’re in the wrong job.)

If you are a newer author, you may well need two or three rounds of structural input. That’s fine. That’s not a failure on your part. That’s you learning a new trade. It’s money well spent – and you can prove it to yourself too. Just ask yourself: are you a better, more knowledgeable, more capable writer at the end of the process? If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll eat my boots, jingly spurs and all. (*)

* – disclosure: I don’t actually wear spurs.

Structural Editing Vs Copy Editing

OK, these are two very different things, but of the two, the structural editing definitely matters more. The purpose of structural / substantive editing is simply: make your book the best book it can be.

The purpose of copy editing is simply: make the text as clean as it can be.

Both things matter, but if your budget only permits one of those things, then go for structural editing, every day of the week. A wonderful story is much more important than tidy text.

And again, though we sell copyediting services, you shouldn’t need them at all if you are heading for trad publication, and you should probably be able to find an acceptable but much cheaper substitute if you are self-publishing.

Line Editing Vs Copy Editing Vs Proof-reading

If you are going to get line-by-line corrections to your MS, then the default answer is to go for copy editing. Proof-reading is really too narrow, and only really makes sense if your book has already been copy edited. (Which is fine if you have a Big 5 budget, but makes no sense for you.)

Line editing is really only required if your sentence construction isn’t yet all it could be, in which case I’d urge you to invest in upskilling. Quite simply: as a pro author, you should be in command of your language. If you’re not, and have to pay a line editor, and if you intend to write 10, 15, 20 or more books over the course of your career, you’ll end up paying a fortune. Much, much better to nurture those exact skills in yourself, and you’ll never need to spend a penny on a line edit.

Also: writing well is good for your soul and writing beautiful sentences is a source of beauty and joy forever. So don’t give anyone else the pleasure.

And Finally…

That’s it from me. Thanks for reading. If you’ve read this far, you may also like:

Help on how to present your manuscript

Help on how to self-edit your novel

If you need help figuring out what kind of editorial process (or, indeed, other support) might be right for you, then get in touch. Jericho Writers does not have a sales team or employ salespeople or pay anyone on commission. Our customer service people are only allowed to recommend a particular service if they genuinely think it would be helpful to the writer concerned.

We’re run by writers for writers, and we’re on your side.

Thanks for reading – and happy editing!

Jericho Writers is a global membership group for writers, providing everything you need to get published. Keep up with our news, membership offers, and updates by signing up to our newsletter. For more writing articles take a look at our blog page or join our free writer's community.

If you think you need copyediting for your manuscript, take a look at our copyediting services. Jericho Writers' experienced editors specialise in editing both novels and non-fiction and would love to help you with your work. Click here for more.

A while back, I completed my fourth Fiona Griffiths novel. The publisher – those nice folks at Orion – liked the book and it was published. So far, so good.

Still, both my editor and I felt the book just felt a bit long. There was nothing redundant or superfluous in it, just the whole book needed to be a little shorter. It was a ship dragging a sea-anchor. Nothing needed to be rebuilt. We just had to reduce the drag.

This post is about how to edit a first draft novel, but based on an actual example of an author (me) going through that process, using my manuscript by way of example.

The book was 136,500 words when I delivered it, but I have just finished a process of cutting and re-editing that has taken it down to 131,000 words. Since my changes included about 750 words of additional text, that means I’ve trimmed a total of somewhat more than 6,000 words, or about 5% of the novel.

(Are you thinking that’s quite long for a thriller? Well, yes, it is. You can get a guide to average novel word counts here, but suffice to say, my work does tend to live at the long end of average. I’d save a lot of work if I learned how to write shorter books!)

This post will share how I did that. What kind of cuts I made, the other adjustments that ensued, the thought processes involved.

Before we get into the detail (and these things are all about detail), three things. This was my ninth published novel, and my thirteenth or fourteenth book. A first draft by a new writer is often able to lose 10% quite easily. It’s not uncommon for 20-30% to be a more accurate target.

New Writers Rule #1

Be ambitious when it comes to cutting material.
You’re not aiming to lose content, necessarily – just verbiage.
A 12 word sentence could become just a 9 word sentence?
That’s the same as cutting 30,000 words from a 120K word novel!

Second, the draft I first delivered to my publisher had already been edited hard. Not just for length, but for flow, atmosphere, plot logic, characterisation, dialogue, beauty, everything. Although the emphasis in this post is on how to cut a novel, this post is just about one small slice of the whole process.

New Writers Rule #2

When it comes to the self-editing process, everything is up for grabs.
Everything.
Plot, characters, pacing, twists, settings. Everything.
There’s nothing sacred. Every little element has to contribute – or get changed.

Third, it’s worth bearing in mind the narrator in what follows is my little Welsh detective, Fiona Griffiths, who has, according to one reviewer, ‘some of the most memorably staccato narration in the genre’. In other words, she likes short sentences, clipping verbs or pronouns where it would be more normal to retain them. That’s her voice. You do not have to follow suit. In other words, the decisions I make need to be taken in that Griffithsian context.

Your decisions will be made in the context of your voice, your characters, your market, your story.

New Writers Rule #3

Don’t follow my rules.
Make your own!

Enough preamble. Let’s look at some cuts. Again, the examples are taken from my actual edits of my actual manuscript . . .

Example Edit: Description of Scramble to Base of Cliff

Here big chunks are dropping out. Some of it is simply about removing surplus. (We didn’t need the names of six different colours of rock or lichen, for example. We didn’t need to know exactly how far Fiona had soaked herself.) But notice how the scene becomes better as a result. All the pieces were there before, but the assembly was a bit slipshod. This tighter format makes the atmospherics work better, even though there’s actually less atmospheric language.

But some of the cuts also had to do with a willingness to trust the reader. So, in the first version, my narrator has said, in effect, “Look, I’ve seen the crime scene photos and I know I’m in the right spot.” The second version just drops all that. Most readers won’t even wonder how Fiona knows where to stand. Those that do can probably be trusted to think, “Oh, I guess there’d be file photos, something like that.”

And notice the tiny changes. “Just about practical” becomes “manageable”. That’s a saving of just two words, but I’d say that a full third of my cuts were probably made up of such tiny things. Here are a couple more examples of tiny cuts. There were hundreds, even thousands of such things through the new draft:

Here, the sense of ‘can’t see anything’ is adequately reflected in Fiona’s question, so the sentence can go. Three words saved. Yummy.

And, before we move on, just one more example of tiny:

One word saved. Hooray.

Overall, it was rare that I came across passages (like the first passage above) that I could really hack into. Much more common was a host of small or tiny changes that cumulated to something bigger. In total, Microsoft Word reckons I made 3400 changes between the first draft and the second. Now, you can maybe quibble about the way it counts, but the point is still good. You can cut a lot of words by making a lot of small changes. It’s hard work, but you’re a writer. And work is fun.

Example Edit: Description of Crime Photo

Now peek at this:

The very first passage was taken, not from an action scene exactly, but one with real vibrancy all the same: a quest to see if an accidental death might really be a suicide. The chunk above, however, comes from one of those scenes that all novels have aplenty. Ones that are necessary to the story, but which don’t have real dramatic frisson. So the cuts above were aimed at simply reducing word count. Not too far, of course: we still need to ‘meet’ Emmett and to feel the atmosphere of that meeting. If I’d cut too far, the text could have felt economical but bland. But still. We didn’t need that sentence starting, ‘I’d have preferred …’.

And yes, that sentence does do something to characterise Fiona Griffiths, but her character is all over this novel, anyway. So keeping a sentence like that in a scene that wants to be shorter made no sense. Out it went.

Example Edit: Prison Description

The same kind of logic applied here:

The deleted material is perfectly fine, but it characterises a location that isn’t used in the scene. Fiona encounters her ex-convict friend in the car park, not the waiting room, so I left in the bit that talks about the car park, cutting the rest. Truth is, I think I was writing myself into the prison scene with that stuff about the waiting area. You’re welcome to write yourself into the scene – just remember to delete fluff. And even that bit in the car park is a wee bit tightened.

Example Edit: Getting the Rhythms Right

You also need to realise that you’re seldom just cutting, even if cutting word count is your only mission. Here’s a small example of what I mean. (But again: this is all about detail.)

Now all I’ve done there is delete the six words about sailing boats. (Not worth doing? But six words is 0.1% of my total reduction target! That’s massively worth it.) But you’ll notice that the bit about the Bay now jumps to the previous paragraph. No actual words have changed but, even for the staccato Ms Griffiths, that “Views …” sentence didn’t have the muscle to comprise a paragraph all on its own, so I cut the para break and the text flows better. You have to be alert to those rhythmical things all the time. Here’s another example:

That first deletion (‘all’) is simply a tidying up thing. It makes the sentence shorter, yes, but it also makes it better. I’d have made the change, even if I weren’t on a hunt for word count. But notice the next bit. I deleted the sentence ‘Like the efficient …’ because I wanted to compress this (not-very-high-octane) scene, but then having done so, the repetition of the word ‘finish’ would have been too much. So the first instance goes. And the rhythm now works again: the staccato four word sentence (‘neat, swift, etc.’), followed by one that sets up the reaction shot – and a teeny bit of tension as to how Jackson will respond.

Example Edit: Increasing Sentence Force

And as you cut text, you’ll find you get sensitised to other little points of detail. Ones like this, for example:

You’ll notice that that’s three words cut, but three words added. There’s no alteration in meaning, nor have I even fiddled about with the sentence’s key flavour-giving words (ie: best-known, king, obscure). So why make the change? The answer is that the starts and ends of sentences have more power than the middles. A sentence that ends ‘ … not the most obscure either’ is just a little less forceful than one that says ‘… nor is he the most obscure.’ I changed the sentence so that the weight could lie in the final word, not the penultimate one.

Example Edit: Getting your Scene / Chapter Endings Right

A similar kind of point lies behind this cut:

This is the end of a chapter. The first version still leaves Fiona’s question nicely mysterious – but the last four, very short, paragraphs don’t really add any more spice than simply ending the chapter at ‘And look, there’s something else.’

Ending early and arriving late is a very good rule to remember when checking your chapter constructions. Are you getting in as close as possible to the dramatic action? Are you leaving as soon as possible thereafter? And do note that ‘dramatic action’ means anything at all which increases the story pressure in the mind of the reader. Fiona’s final question blips that pressure up a notch (what is she asking, what does she want?), so the best place to finish the scene is right there, with the reader mid-blip.

What Next?

Since this is a long post already, that’s probably the place to leave it. But don’t feel you have to struggle alone with your novel. We have excellent editors ready to help you identify and fix the issues in your novel. If you want help understanding the various types of editorial service available, you can find a complete (and opinionated) guide here. A useful editing resource page (via Kindlepreneur) can be found here.

And as you get close to the moment of actually Getting Your Manuscript Out There, you probably want to read our guide on how to get a literary agent and our complete literary agent FAQs page here. Or, if you're ready to get the ball rolling with agents, but just need a little push, try our Agent Submission Pack Review for some detailed professional advice. If it's your manuscript that you want a little help with, try our copyediting services or a manuscript assessment.

You’ve been there. I’ve been there. We’ve all been there: the one-third slump, when a manuscript runs out of steam maybe thirty-thousand words in. Something about the story simply isn’t working.

So what’s gone wrong?

When I first started out as a writer, I read up on the different approaches used by novelists I admired. I found that many of them, particularly Stephen King, didn’t like to plan things out. They were seat-of-the-pants writers, who liked to come up with a situation, then watch where their characters took them. For such writers, part of the pleasure of writing was the sheer unpredictability involved.

All well and good, but it took me a long time to work out that this wasn’t the right approach for me. Over the next several years, I started and failed to finish a ridiculous number of stories and novels. I knew the characters, the basic story, and the conflicts. What I didn’t have was a clear enough idea where the story went after a certain point.

This continued to be a concern even when I got my first book contract. Although my first two novels, Angel Stations and Against Gravity, were well-received, I was never quite satisfied with the plot in either. I became highly stressed while trying to find the direction of the story in each. And so, when it came to writing my third novel, I took a radically different approach.

Whenever I pitch a book to my publishers, I’m required to provide a rough outline of the story. This time, I determined to write a much more detailed synopsis than before, but for my benefit rather than that of my publishers. I wanted to be absolutely sure not only how the book started, but exactly how it would end. I broke the story down on a chapter-by-chapter basis until I had approximately six thousand words of text.

Then I started writing what later became my third novel, Stealing Light. I hit a one-third slump anyway, despite all my planning. I found what had sounded good in the synopsis wasn’t necessarily panning out in the actual manuscript. I suspect this happens even for those of you who do plan your novels.

So I stopped writing and, for the next four or five weeks, did nothing but revise that synopsis. I made a point of not worrying about my deadline. By the time I finished those revisions, the synopsis had ballooned to a little over twenty-four thousand words — one quarter the length of an average novel. I had every little detail absolutely nailed down, as well as having made major revisions to some of the principal characters.

It occurred to me during this that all those seats-of-the-pants writers were being a touch disingenuous about their writing process. Either they did plan out their stories, but kept it all in their head, or their offices were filled with a vast number of unfinished stories and manuscripts.

Both, I think, are true.

When I write editorial reports on writers’ manuscripts, time and again I find that a novel hasn’t been planned in sufficient depth, and I sometimes wonder if it’s because the author read the same interviews I did when I was young — interviews with writers like Stephen King, who can produce hundreds of thousands of words of text every year, without fail, even if much of that effort winds up in the bin.

Writers like King are the exception, I believe, rather than the rule. The rest of us, in order to write a saleable story, must instead plan everything out in as much detail as possible before we start writing a novel. Think of it as building a roadmap; without the map, you become lost in the woods, but with the map, you can see not only where you came from, but where you’re going. Without the map, you might be able to find your way out of the woods eventually, but it might take you far, far longer, and the journey might be considerably more frustrating and much less fun.

And what about if, like me, you find even with that map — that outline — your story still isn’t coming together in those early stages?

Do what I did: stop writing the book, and rework the synopsis instead.

Treat those first thirty-thousand words as a kind of testbed for your ideas. Use it to figure out what does work, and what doesn’t. Give yourself permission to play around, to develop alternate paths for the story to develop. Treat the synopsis as an end in itself, and take satisfaction in developing its twists and turns. Allow yourself as much time as necessary to do this, and don’t even think about starting work on a book unless you know how it ends.

Don’t believe writers who tell you doing this can ‘kill’ the story for you: just because it’s true for them doesn’t mean it is for you, and you could save yourself weeks or months of frustration.

That third novel of mine, Stealing Light, was an enormous success, and my ‘breakout’ novel. It was also my first book to be issued in hardback, and was soon followed by two sequels. I attribute this almost entirely to the care and attention I took in plotting every twist and turn. Ever since then I still stop at roughly the one-third mark in a manuscript to revise and alter the synopsis, based on what is and isn’t working.

Instead of an object of frustration, let that one-third slump become an opportunity for inspiration.

You asked. We answered.

You’ve written your manuscript. You’ve edited hard. You are now on your fourth, seventh, nineteenth draft. You still absolutely believe in your basic concept and you are certain that you have a vocation for writing / authoring.

But here’s the thing: you know your work isn’t yet good enough.

Maybe you know that just because you’ve got that feelings in my bones. (And believe me: I’ve been there too.)

Or maybe you’ve tried actually sending your work out to literary agents and had nothing but pre-printed rejection emails. (Or, worse, but very common – you haven’t even heard back.)

So what next? It feels like a Catch-22. You want expert editing to help you over the last remaining hurdles, but the people who look like they ought to be helping you – those literary agents – aren’t even replying to your emails.

So now what? And do these darn agents edit manuscripts, yes or no?

Well, if you want the short answer, then it’s:

Yes, they do edit manuscripts, but also
No, no, they really don’t.

If that explanation doesn’t seem totally helpful, then I’ll see if I can make it a little clearer.

When Agents Get Involved In Editing

And when (more often) they don’t.

When it comes to your dealings with literary agents, it’s essential to remember that these guys do not charge you anything upfront. Not a dollar, not a dime. I’ve had an agent for twenty years and I have never paid even one single penny for his or (with my first agent) her services – or not directly anyway.

Because the way that agents get their money is by earning commissions on sales to publishers.

So if you take the first book in my Fiona Griffiths series, my agent has made sales – and earned commission – on sales to publishers in Britain, America, Germany, France, Italy, Spain, and further afield. He’s also been involved in the sale of TV rights. He’s also done a terrific audio deal for me. There may be other deals down the road too. Each time one of these deals happens, I get a wodge of money arriving in my bank account, from which the agent has deducted his little (and well-earned) sliver.

The consequence of this “no fee / commission only” payment structure is that agents only get paid for their time if they make a sale – and then only if that sale is for enough money to pay them back for all that they’ve done. That’s should be easy-ish if the sale is to a Big 5 publisher and brings some overseas book deals in its wake. If the only sale is to a mid-sized or micro domestic publisher, then the agent is probably (privately) disappointed.

The Tottering Slushpile

If the commission-only way of doing business seems challenging, that challenge is compounded by the sheer volume of submissions that literary agents receive.

That total varies from agent to agent, but about 2,000 submissions per agent per year would be typical. Of that an agent may find only 2-3 manuscripts that seem destined for the kind of advances that will generate enough revenue for an agent.

The result?

Predictably enough, agents will reject the vast majority of manuscripts that come their way. It’s not just that they don’t have the time to deal with those manuscripts and those clients, it’s that there’s no money in them. Most manuscripts that agents receive are just unsaleable.

So When do Agents Edit?

Agents will get involved in editorial advice when they come across a manuscript that:

1. Has an excellent, saleable idea.
2. Is written with a competent professionalism.
3. Has a strong story.
4. Is in the top 1%, or maybe the top 0.5% of all submissions.
5. Is not ready to be sent to publishers as it stands.

In effect, when an agent offers to get involved editorially, they are thinking, roughly:

“Look, if I sent this manuscript out as it is, I might get offers, but I don’t think they’d be very strong ones... and actually, I might just get fistful of rejections. And I certainly don’t want that.

“Then again, I can’t helpfeeling that this manuscript could do really well, if I put in the 2-3 dozen hours needed to get this manuscript into shape. Yes, the writer themselves will be doing the actual work here – my job will be one of guidance only; I’m not going to be making hands-on changes to the manuscript myself.

“But with my input, and if the writer works hard and makes the changes I recommend? Then yes, I think this could be a really profitable (and fun, and artistically rewarding) project. I’m going to reach out to this author. Yay!“

As a writer, that’s good to hear on a number of levels. You don’t want a real estate guy who just dumps your house on the market without telling you to mow your overgrown lawn and fix that sagging guttering. You want the real estate person who forces you to fix the house up for sale, in order that you get the very best price.

So the fact that agents are willing to be engaged, active and intelligent in how they sell your book is great to hear.

But from your perspective, as writer, there are two crucial qualifications to take away.

Crucial Thing the First
Your manuscript has to be really, really good already.
You can’t just use agents as a free pass to solving the difficulties that you and your manuscript face.

If you send an agent a mediocre manuscript, you stand no chance at all of engaging them qua editor. In fact, because the competition is so intense, you won’t get an agent involved even if your book is really quite good.

The sad fact is that “really quite good” isn’t even close to the standard agents are looking for.

Crucial Thing the Second
Some agents are really strong editorially, and love doing it.
Others just aren’t that strong and don’t pretend to be.

After all, an agent’s core job is as a saleswoman (or, less often in this industry, salesman.) My first agent – who was great – told me directly when I engaged her that she just wasn’t that great at editing books, but she was a powerhouse when it came to selling them.

These days, I’d say that all agents have had to become more hands on when it comes to polishing manuscripts prior to sale, but there’s still a reason why editors edit, and agents sell.

In effect, using an agent as an editor is a bit like using a carpenter as a bricklayer. Sure, carpenters are skilled and multi-talented. They’ll probably do a pretty good job of building that wall, but . . .

If You Want An Editor, Hire An Editor!

There are plenty of freelance editors around. We at Jericho Writers built our business and our reputation by offering superb editorial advice to writers just like you. Get a manuscript assessment here.

And what you get is editing, editing, editing.

You pay for our input, and you get our full, committed, detailed assessment of your manuscript, along with a ton of recommendations about what to do and how to do it.

Now you probably think that, because we make money from editing, and because we’ve had a huge number of success stories, I’m going to tell you to rush over to us for editorial help.

Well, no. I’m not.

You can’t use editorial input as a shortcut. Successful writers always put the hard yards in themselves.

Some writers think something like this: “Hey, I’ve completed my manuscript. I’ve done a couple of quick read-throughs for typos and that kind of thing. I’ve emailed my manuscript out to a few dozen literary agents, but no one offered to take me on and they won’t help me edit my book, even though I asked really nicely. So, OK, maybe I need to pay someone to get this book into shape.”

If you think like that, then you won’t make the grade as a writer and, to be honest with you, you aren’t the sort of client that we especially love dealing with. I mean, sure, we’ll work with anyone, and we’ll do our level professional best for you. But our favourite clients? They are always, always the super-committed ones.

Remember: Writing is rewriting.

Self-editing is the art of sifting through your manuscript and checking it for everything.

Surplus words, sentences, paragraphs and scenes. Faulty, vague or unconvincing characterisation. Weak dialogue. Weak plotting. Problems with pace or viewpoint.

Basically, you need to think like an author and work these things out for yourself, as far as you are possibly able.

You will benefit in three ways. First, your manuscript will get better (probably a lot better). Secondly, your own skills as an author will grow. Thirdly, your pride and confidence will – quite rightly – grow and blossom.

So, OK, you do all that and then you may still need editorial help.

And that’s fine. Maybe you’ll just know for yourself that your manuscript needs work. Or maybe you’ll try your luck with literary agents and not get the response you wanted. Or maybe you’ve been scratching away at a dissatisfaction with your work, and have found yourself going round in circles.

If you fit into any of those categories, then, yes, you do need third party editorial help and, yes, we at Jericho Writers would absolutely love to give it.

We are here to deliver outstanding editorial services to committed writers, and we would be deeply honoured to work with you. If you're interested in our copyediting services, please click here.

In the meantime, happy writing, happy editing and (when you’re good and ready to send your work out) happy agent-hunting too!

Developmental editing. Structural editing. Line editing. Copy editing. Proofreading.

Yes, we know: you’ve written a manuscript. You know it needs some kind of professional help. But what kind of help? Copy editing or line editing? Structural editing or developmental support? There seem to be so many options to choose from.

But never fear. We’ll tell you exactly what each of the different types of editing are – and offer some suggestions on what editing you do/don’t need right now.

The good news is that, quite often, you need less editorial input than you might think. (The bad news is that you have to put in a lot of hard graft instead…)

What Are The Different Types Of Editing?

• Developmental editing: also known as structural editing. This is concerned with everything to do with the story's big picture: the concept, plot, character development.
• Line editing: looks at details line by line.
• Copy-editing: is much as above, except with less attention to line-by-line correction of clumsy writing.
• Proof reading: looks for simple typos or errors in the text.

How Editing Works

Before we go any further, it’s worth explaining the editorial hierarchy. Essentially you go from large to little, from structural to detailed.

So it’s like building a house: you start with foundations, walls and roof. Then you start thinking about doors and windows. Then you start thinking about paints and wallpapers. Last, you go around sweeping up and sorting out any last little snags.

The same thing with editing, where the hierarchy runs roughly like this, from big to small:

1. Developmental editing or structural editing. Identifying and addressing any number of big picture issues that could include: plot, pacing, character development, settings, emotional turning points, themes, writing style and much else.
2. Line editing: this starts to look at the detail. Is each sentence clear? Are there typos? Unwanted repetitions? Minor factual errors?
3. Copy editing: much as above, except there’s less attention to line-by-line correction of clumsy writing.
4. Proof reading: At the proof stage, you generally expect that all the essential work has already been done, so this is really just rushing around the manuscript looking for last bits of lint to pick off and typos to clear away.

That’s the overview. Not all manuscripts will go through all of these stages – indeed, if you’re doing a decent job as an author then one or two of these stages are probably redundant.

All that said, let’s jump straight into the meat…

Developmental Editing

We’ll start with the biggest, broadest, most sweeping kind of editing you can get: developmental editing. We go into much more detail over in this blog post if you are interested but the basics are below.

Definition: What Is Developmental Editing?

In the good old days, developmental editing used to have one precise meaning. It now has certainly two, maybe three, and possibly four meanings. In short: no wonder you’re confused. And no wonder it’s unclear whether developmental editing is something you need or not.

But let’s start with those definitions. Here goes.

Developmental Editing is Structural Editing is Big Picture Editing is...

There are many names floating around that refer to roughly the same type of editing: the one that takes a step back from the line-level words and views the novel as a whole. Does the story make sense? Are these characters believable? What is the core concept promised in these pages and does it stick the landing?

In the world of books, you may come across other uses of 'developmental editing' but essentially, knowing that this type of editing relates to the Big Picture rather than something closer like line-editing or proofreading, which is much more concerned with grammar and syntax.

Developmental Editing As Juiced Up Manuscript Assessment

Now for me, the gold-standard method of improving a manuscript is quite simply the good old-fashioned manuscript assessment. You write your book. You send it to an editor. You get a report back saying, in essence, “this worked, this didn’t, here’s how to fix the bits that were off.”

That sounds simple, but it isn’t. And often enough the effect of good manuscript feedback is a total revitalisation of the work. Many, many times, I’ve known a manuscript assessment to be the single most pivotal moment in a writer’s path to publication.

But –

A manuscript assessment is mostly just that. A long, written report. In the case of Jericho Writers, you get a fabulous editor, a report of no less than 3,000 words, and a long track record of success. But what you don’t get, or not mostly, is a page-by-page list of Big Picture things to think about.

And sometimes you need that too.

Sometimes you need the rounded, structural commentary of the report but with detailed page-by-page advice alongside – actual annotations on the manuscript. Comments written in Word. Sample edits made to the document itself.

This is where our definition of developmental editing comes in. The big and the small. Both things delivered together.

This kind of service is what we, Jericho Writers, offer by way of developmental editing. Others offer it too. It’s a very, very good service. It’s the ultimate gift you can give your work.

(And yes. I know. That just sounds like a sales pitch – but read on. Developmental editing isn’t right for everyone. It might not be right for you.)

When Is Developmental Editing Right For You?

If we're going by Jericho Writers definitions, it probably isn't.

What you probably need is a professional manuscript assessment if you want an editor to help you understand the big picture of your manuscript and give you ways to improve it. If you want a closer, more in-depth look on a line-level, then consider a developmental edit. We've put the two types of editing side by side below for you to compare.

Structural Editing, Substantive Editing, Editorial Assessment

Now we know the rough difference between types of editing that look at the big picture and the types that are concerned with closer, line-level views, let's dig into some definitions.

Definitions

Structural editing is, by definition, a set of comments on the structure of your work. That will certainly involve plot and pacing. But it may also include comments on character, mood, emotional transitions, dialogue, character arcs, writing style and much more.

If you’re being strict about it, structural editing should focus only on structure, but in practice editors tend to comment on anything that, in their view, needs attention. (Which is good. Which is what you want.) Which makes it closer to something like our manuscript assessment.

Basically, a good structural edit will tell you:

• What’s working (though they won’t spend too long on this)
• What’s not working (this is where the report will concentrate all its firepower. This is good. This is what you want.)
• How to fix the stuff that isn’t yet right

A good report will quite simply cover everything that you most need to know. It’ll do that from the perspective of the market for books as it is now. So the kind of crime novels (say) that could have sold 25 years ago may not be right for the market now. A good editor will know that, and set you on the right lines.

Substantive editing is basically the same as structural editing, except that technically it doesn’t have to limit itself to structure alone. But since structural editors don’t in practice confine themselves to structural comments, it’s pretty safe to say that, in practice, the two things are exactly the same.

Editorial assessment, or Manuscript assessment. These two things are exactly the same as structural editing. The difference is that an editorial assessment gives you an editorial report, but doesn’t usually also give you a marked-up manuscript as well. If it's line-level comments you want from your editor, a developmental edit is what you're looking for, though you probably don't need it.

Again, in practice, these things blur into each other. Our own core editorial product is, indeed, the manuscript assessment. The main deliverable there is a long, detailed editorial report on your book. That said, a lot of editors will, if it’s useful, also mark-up all or part of your manuscript. Or if they don’t, they may quote so extensively from your work, that it’s kinda the same as if they did.

In short, and give or take a few blurry bits on the edges:

structural editing = substantive editing = editorial assessment = manuscript assessment

Easy, right?

Is Structural Editing / Editorial Assessment Right For You?

Yes.

Almost certainly: yes.

Now, to be clear, I own Jericho Writers and if you trot along to buy one of our wonderful manuscript assessments, it'll boost my business. So in that sense I’m biased.

On the other hand, I just told you you probably don't need developmental edits, and I’d make myself a LOT richer if I got you to buy one of those things, so I hope I have a little credit in the bank. I’m speaking truth, not salesman yadda.

And the reason I like structural editing so much is that:

1. It is and remains the gold-standard way to improve a manuscript. Nothing else has ever come close. I’m not that far away from publishing my twentieth book. (I’m both trad & indie, and I love both channels, in case you’re wondering.) I’m a pretty damn good author. I’ve had very positive reviews in newspapers across the world. My books have sold in a kazillion countries and been optioned for TV. And every single one of my books have had detailed editorial input. And they’ve always, always got better as a result. Always.
2. It makes you better as a writer. You always emerge from these exercises with new skills and new insights. You will apply those to your current manuscript, for sure, but you’ll apply them to the next one too. The more you work with skilled external editors, the more you’ll grow as a writer. (And, I think, as a human too.)

So that’s why I think structural editing works so well, and for such a huge variety of manuscripts, genres and authors.

When Should You Get Structural Input On Your Work?

Well, OK. The businessman in me wants to say, “Get that input right now. Hand over your lovely hard-earned dollars / pounds / shekels / yen, and your soul and career will flourish, my friend.”

But that’s not the right answer.

The fact is that the right time for editorial input is generally: as late as possible.

If you know you have a plot niggle in Part IV, then fix the damn niggle. Fix it as well as you can. Don’t go and pay someone to tell you that you have an issue. That’s dumb.

Same thing if your characters feel a bit flat, or your atmosphere is a bit lacking, or whatever else. If you know your book has issues, then do the best you can to fix those issues. You’ll learn a lot and your book will get better.

That means, the right time for editorial input comes when:

1. You’ve worked hard, but you keep going round in circles. You’re confusing yourself. You need external eyes and buckets of wisdom.
2. You’ve worked hard, but you know the book isn’t right. You don’t know what’s awry exactly, but you know you need help.
3. You’ve worked hard, you’ve got the book out to agents, but you’re not getting offers of representation. You know you need to do something, but you don’t know what.
4. The self-pub version of 2: you have a draft you’re reasonably happy with, but you’re about to publish this damn thing, and your whole future career depends on the excellence of the story you’re going to serve the reader. So you do the right thing and invest in the product. You’re going to get the best kickass structural edit you can, then use that advice as intensively as you can. (Editing, in fact, is one of the only two things that should cost you real money at this early stage: the other one is cover design. And, no surprise, they both relate to developing the best product it is in your power to produce.)

In short: work as hard as you can on the book. When you’re no longer making discernible forward progress, come to an editor.

And – blatant plug alert! – Jericho Writers is very, very good at editorial stuff. We’ve got a bazillion people published, trad and indie, and the success stories just keep coming.

Developmental Editing – As Juiced Up Manuscript Assessment

I love manuscript assessments – I think they’re the single most helpful thing you can do to improve your work. At their best, with author and editor working well together, they’re like a magic formula for improving your work.

But a lot of people still find them insufficient. In particular, a manuscript assessment might say something like, “Your character Claudia isn’t yet cohering. Here’s what I mean in general terms [blah, blah, blah]. And here are some specific page references which illustrate my general point [page 23, page 58, etc].”

Now that’s helpful, but it still leaves you to do an awful lot. If Claudia is a major character, the specific changes you need to make are likely to go well beyond the handful of examples the editor uses to make their broader point.

So what do you do?

Well, hopefully, you understand exactly where your editor is coming from, and you make the necessary changes, and your manuscript becomes perfect.

Only maybe not. Some people just are helped by having their manuscript marked up page by page. That’s not instead of the more general report. It’s in addition. That way you get to see the broad thrust of the comments, as well as the more specific issues as well.

So you get an overview of (for example) why Claudia isn’t quite working as well as a detailed laundry list of all the specific places where her character grates a bit.

And it’s not just characterisation. It’s plot issues. It’s matters of writing style. It’s sense of place. It’s everything that goes into a novel.

So – and this is because our clients have specifically asked us to create the product – we now offer a version of developmental editing that combines these services in a single package:

• Manuscript assessment – overview report
• Detailed mark-up of your manuscript – literally page, by page
• One hour discussion with the editor, so you can resolve any outstanding questions or niggles you may have.

Pretty obviously, this is a deluxe package and, pretty obviously, it’s expensive. It’s also, honestly, not what most of you need.

Will I Benefit From Developmental Editing, Jericho-style?

As a rough guide, very new writers are probably best off building their skills by taking a writing course or, of course, just hammering away at their manuscript. (That’s still the best learning exercise of all.)

After that, once you have a first, or third, or fifth draft manuscript, it makes sense to get a regular manuscript assessment. That way, you can grasp the main issues with your work and you have a plan of attack for dealing with them.

Because developmental editing is as much concerned both with the broader issues AND with the narrower ones, it doesn’t really make sense to purchase the service until your manuscript is in pretty good shape.

After all, the outcome of a manuscript assessment might be “That whole sequence set on Venus just doesn’t work and needs to be rethought from scratch.” If that’s the case, then having detailed page-by-page comments on the way you write isn’t really going to help you much.

So as a rough guide, you will benefit from developmental editing, if:

• Your manuscript is in pretty good shape (ie: this should be the last major round of work before submitting to publishers or self-publishing the manuscript)
• You want both broad and narrow comments
• You want the opportunity to talk at length with your editor
• You are OK paying for a premium service.

You will not benefit from developmental editing, if:

• Your manuscript is still at a somewhat earlier stage in its journey
• You feel able to handle the narrower issues yourself, so long as you have reasonable guidance from your manuscript assessment report.

Line Editing, Copy Editing, Proof Reading

OK. We’ve dealt with the broader, more structural types of editing. We’re now going to home in on the ever finer-grained types of editing.

We’ll start as before with some definitions.

Definitions

Of the detailed, line-by-line type edits, line-editing is the one that has the broadest remit. I’ll start with proof-reading (the most narrowly defined of these editorial stages) and build upwards from there.

Proof-reading comes at the final stage prior to printing/publication. It basically assumes that the manuscript has already been checked over thoroughly, so this is really only a final check for errors that have managed to slip through the net. (And, in fact historically, the process of type-setting for print often introduced errors, so proof-reading was partly necessary to reverse those. These days, unsurprisingly, you can format a document for print without messing it up.) The kind of errors a proof-reader will catch include: typos, misspellings, punctuation errors, missing spaces, and the like. It’s a micro-level, final-error catching task, and nothing much else.

Copy-editing includes everything included in proofreading, but it’ll have a somewhat broader scope. So a copy editor will also be on the look out for factual errors, timetable and other inconsistencies in the novel, occasional instances of unclear or weak phrasing, awkward repetitions, deviations from house style (if there is a house style), and so on. In the traditional publishing sequence, copy editing will take place after all structural editing has been done, but before the book has been set for print.

Line-editing will cover everything that’s detailed above, plus a general check for sentence structure, clarity and sense. In other words, it is part of a line editor’s job to fix clumsily phrased, repetitious or otherwise awkward sentences. Yes, you the author should not be writing clumsily in the first place, but if by chance you do, the line editor is there to put things right.

Why does anyone ever want or need line-editing? Well, some authors are brilliant at generating character and story, but their actual sentence-by-sentence expression of that story just isn’t so great. In these cases, a publisher will commission a line-edit to put those things right.

The Editing Process: What You Need & When You Need It

Right. What kind of editing you need and should pay for depends on what kind of publication you are looking at. So:

The Traditional Publishing Sequence

The normal publishing sequence (for traditionally published books) would be:

1. Structural editing (ie: a detailed manuscript assessment)
2. Copy-editing (or line editing if the author really needs it, but never both things)
3. Proof-reading

That’s it.

If you are aiming at traditional publication, then you may well need to invest in a manuscript assessment, in order to write something of the quality needed for a literary agent / publisher.

You certainly won’t need copy editing, or anything along those lines. That’ll be carried out, for free, by the publisher down the line. (They’ll also do some more structural editing work too, but don’t worry about that – you can’t get too much, and your book always gets better.)

The Indie Publishing Sequence

Indie publishers, inevitably, focus more on cost-cutting than the Big 5 houses do, so a typical indie process might look simply like this:

1. Some kind of structural support – probably an editorial assessment or something similar
2. Some kind of copy-editing support

If you don’t have the budget for both, I’d urge you to get the structural help: that’s what will really make the difference to the sheer readability of your book. That’s where to spend your funds.

Indeed, though we at Jericho Writers offer a full range of copyediting and proofreading services, I don’t usually advise writers to invest in them at all.

If you are an indie on a lowish launch budget (which is the right kind of budget to have when you’re just starting out), then I’d recommend an editing plan along roughly the following lines:

1. Full editorial assessment, ideally from Jericho Writers (because we’re really good at it.)
2. You then rework your book in the light of what you’ve been told
3. You then give it a good hard proofread yourself for any errors and typos
4. You then enlist the help of any eagle-eyed friends to do the same

That plan won’t give you a manuscript as clean as if you give it the full cost-no-object Big 5 treatment … but it’ll be just fine. Don’t overspend at this stage.

The Indie Publishing Sequence

OK. You know the basic layout of what editing is and when it’s used. Here’s what I think the big questions are.

Developmental Editing Vs Structural Editing

You know my view on this. I think for 99% of you reading this, you are best off (a) working and self-editing as hard as you can yourself, then (b) getting professional input on your work from a structural editor.

That’s going to be miles cheaper and the end result will be better too. Yes, you’ll need to do a lot of work, but you’re a writer. You like work. (If you don’t, you’re in the wrong job.)

If you are a newer author, you may well need two or three rounds of structural input. That’s fine. That’s not a failure on your part. That’s you learning a new trade. It’s money well spent – and you can prove it to yourself too. Just ask yourself: are you a better, more knowledgeable, more capable writer at the end of the process? If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll eat my boots, jingly spurs and all. (*)

* – disclosure: I don’t actually wear spurs.

Structural Editing Vs Copy Editing

OK, these are two very different things, but of the two, the structural editing definitely matters more. The purpose of structural / substantive editing is simply: make your book the best book it can be.

The purpose of copy editing is simply: make the text as clean as it can be.

Both things matter, but if your budget only permits one of those things, then go for structural editing, every day of the week. A wonderful story is much more important than tidy text.

And again, though we sell copyediting services, you shouldn’t need them at all if you are heading for trad publication, and you should probably be able to find an acceptable but much cheaper substitute if you are self-publishing.

Line Editing Vs Copy Editing Vs Proof-reading

If you are going to get line-by-line corrections to your MS, then the default answer is to go for copy editing. Proof-reading is really too narrow, and only really makes sense if your book has already been copy edited. (Which is fine if you have a Big 5 budget, but makes no sense for you.)

Line editing is really only required if your sentence construction isn’t yet all it could be, in which case I’d urge you to invest in upskilling. Quite simply: as a pro author, you should be in command of your language. If you’re not, and have to pay a line editor, and if you intend to write 10, 15, 20 or more books over the course of your career, you’ll end up paying a fortune. Much, much better to nurture those exact skills in yourself, and you’ll never need to spend a penny on a line edit.

Also: writing well is good for your soul and writing beautiful sentences is a source of beauty and joy forever. So don’t give anyone else the pleasure.

And Finally…

That’s it from me. Thanks for reading. If you’ve read this far, you may also like:

Help on how to present your manuscript

Help on how to self-edit your novel

If you need help figuring out what kind of editorial process (or, indeed, other support) might be right for you, then get in touch. Jericho Writers does not have a sales team or employ salespeople or pay anyone on commission. Our customer service people are only allowed to recommend a particular service if they genuinely think it would be helpful to the writer concerned.

We’re run by writers for writers, and we’re on your side.

Thanks for reading – and happy editing!

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If you think you need copyediting for your manuscript, take a look at our copyediting services. Jericho Writers' experienced editors specialise in editing both novels and non-fiction and would love to help you with your work. Click here for more.