An editor doesn’t just open a manuscript and know what it needs.
At least, I don’t.
I have to read it. I have to pay attention to how I’m responding to it, notice what catches my attention, and then figure out why.
That process looks different depending on the assignment, the manuscript, the author, and the time available. I’ve written about Why I Don’t Read Every Manuscript the Same Way, but that post focuses mostly on what happens before I begin reading.
This is about what happens once I actually start.
I’ve Been Thinking About How I Read for a Long Time
Long before I became an editor, I was a teacher.
At one point, I hadeighty freshman college composition essays to read. I had a deadline, and those essays had to be read, graded, and returned.
I couldn’t spend an hour contemplating every sentence.
I had to learn to read efficiently. I looked for patterns. I noticed recurring problems. I paid attention to what students were trying to say and where their writing needed help. I had to make a decision and move on to the next paper.
Research papers were different.
There were fewer students, and although the papers were longer, they grew out of semester-long research projects. I had more context and more time to think about what I was reading.
Those experiences taught me something that has stayed with me:
The circumstances surrounding the reading affect how you read.
I didn’t stop caring about the quality of the work when I had eighty papers to read. I simply had to read differently.
The same thing happens in my editorial work.
A Deadline Changes the Way I Work
When I’m copyediting or proofreading for a publisher or packager, I’m working toward a production deadline.
I’ve been given a particular job, and I need to get it done.
If I see a problem while copyediting, I fix it. If I spot something that needs attention while proofreading, I address it and keep moving.
I don’t always have time to stop and spend an hour thinking about why a sentence isn’t working.
That’s part of working in publishing production. The book has to keep moving.
And sometimes that focused, efficient reading is exactly what’s needed.
Individual Authors Give Me More Room to Think
Working directly with an author can be different.
I may already have a sample edit, an author questionnaire, or information from my conversations with the author. I may know what the author is concerned about and what they hope the book will accomplish.
Depending on the project, I may also have more time.
That gives me leeway.
If I reach something that makes me stop and think, Something isn’t quite working here, but I’m not sure why, I don’t have to solve it immediately.
I can stop editing.
I can go for a walk. I can attend a Zoom call. I can talk something through with a friend. I can work on something else.
Then I can come back to the manuscript.
Sometimes the answer is clearer.
Sometimes I realize that what caught my attention isn’t a problem.
And sometimes I realize that the sentence or paragraph I was looking at isn’t the real issue at all. It’s a symptom of something happening elsewhere in the manuscript.
Time to think can make a difference.
I Didn’t Always Think This Way
When I first started editing, I thought being a good editor meant fixing everything that was wrong.
If I saw a problem, I fixed it. If I saw something that could be clearer, I changed it. If I noticed an inconsistency, I corrected it.
It took time to learn that those aren’t always the right questions.
The better question is:
Does this need to be fixed?
And sometimes the answer is no.
When you’re trained to notice things, it’s easy to want to fix the things you notice.
But an editor’s job isn’t to leave a manuscript with nothing left to change. Almost any manuscript can be changed.
The job is to recognize which changes will actually make the book stronger and which ones aren’t necessary.
So What Am I Looking For?
I don’t have a checklist that I run through on every manuscript.
Instead, I pay attention to what happens as I read.
Where do I slow down?
Where am I confused?
Where do I have to reread something?
Where do I lose interest?
Where do I find myself wondering about something the author probably didn’t intend me to wonder about?
Where does the writing feel natural and effortless?
Those reactions don’t automatically mean something needs to be changed.
They’re clues.
They tell me where I may need to look closer.
I’ve written before about the difference between what writers know about their manuscripts and what readers actually experience. In How to Evaluate Your Manuscript Like a First-Time Reader, I discuss how familiarity can make it difficult for writers to see what a reader actually encounters on the page.
That difference matters when I’m editing, too.
I Look for Patterns
One awkward sentence doesn’t necessarily tell me much.
If I encounter the same kind of problem repeatedly, that’s different.
Maybe information consistently arrives later than the reader needs it.
Maybe a chapter feels slow because the same information is explained more than once.
Maybe instructions are technically correct but leave out a step the reader needs.
Maybe a character’s motivation isn’t clear.
Maybe the writing is perfectly understandable at the sentence level, but the manuscript isn’t building toward what the author wants the reader to experience.
I’m interested in the pattern because the pattern may point to the real issue.
That’s why I don’t want to spend my time simply collecting things that could be changed.
I want to understand what is causing the problem.
This is also part of what happens during a manuscript evaluation. I’m not simply looking for individual things to fix. I’m looking at the manuscript as a whole and trying to understand its strengths, weaknesses, patterns, and areas that need focused revision.
As I explain in What Is a Manuscript Evaluation? Why Writers Need One Before Editing, the goal of an evaluation is to help a writer understand what needs revising before moving into more detailed editing.
I Ask Whether Something Is Actually a Problem
An editor can notice something without deciding that it needs to be changed.
A writer may have made a deliberate choice.
A sentence may sound unusual because the author wants it to sound that way. A structure may be unconventional because it serves the book. A word may not be the one I would have chosen, but that doesn’t make it wrong.
Before I change something, I want to understand what the author is trying to accomplish.
Sometimes I’ll make a change.
Sometimes I’ll make a suggestion.
Sometimes I’ll ask a question.
And sometimes I’ll leave it alone.
Editing isn’t about making a manuscript sound like I wrote it.
I Keep the Reader in Mind
I’m also reading for the person who isn’t inside the author’s head.
The author knows what they mean.
The reader doesn’t.
That’s especially important in the kinds of books I work on.
A young reader may need something presented differently than an adult reader would.
Someone using a cookbook needs to know what to do next without stopping to interpret the recipe.
Someone following a craft project needs instructions that are complete and logical.
A reader of any book needs enough information to understand where the author is taking them.
That’s why I pay so much attention to the reader’s experience.
In How to Evaluate Your Manuscript Like a First-Time Reader, I discuss what can happen when writers step outside their familiarity with the manuscript and try to experience it as a reader would.
The same principle applies when I’m editing.
When something catches my attention, I ask myself whether it matters to the reader.
If it doesn’t, it may not need my attention at all.
Not Everything That Can Be Fixed Needs to Be Fixed
This may be one of the hardest things for an editor to learn.
A manuscript can contain a lot of things that could be changed.
But fixing everything isn’t necessarily the goal.
If the structure of a book isn’t working, correcting every awkward sentence won’t solve the problem.
If a recipe is missing an important step, changing its punctuation won’t make the recipe usable.
If a story loses its intended audience halfway through, polishing the sentences won’t fix the larger issue.
I have to decide what matters most.
Sometimes that means leaving a small problem alone because something else needs attention first.
That’s part of editorial judgment.
Sometimes I Need to Read More Before I Know
I don’t always know what a manuscript needs from the first few pages.
Sometimes I need to see what happens later.
Sometimes a question I have early in the manuscript is answered naturally.
Sometimes something that initially looks like a problem turns out to be intentional.
And sometimes a small concern becomes more significant as a pattern develops.
That’s another reason I don’t like to make assumptions too early.
I need to let the manuscript show me what’s there.
So, How Do I Know What Your Manuscript Needs?
I read it.
I read it as a reader, but I also read it with the assignment in mind.
I pay attention to my reactions.
I look for patterns.
I consider the author’s intentions and the needs of the intended reader.
I think about what matters most to the manuscript rather than trying to fix everything I notice.
And when the project allows it, I give myself enough room to think.
That’s different from having a formula.
It’s also different from simply correcting what’s wrong.
For me, good editing involves figuring out why something isn’t working and whether changing it will actually make the manuscript stronger.
Sometimes the answer is obvious.
Sometimes it takes another read.
Sometimes it takes stepping away from the computer and coming back later.
And sometimes the answer is nothing needs to be changed at all.
The manuscript has to tell me.
That’s one reason I believe an editor’s first job isn’t to change your words.
It’s to understand what your manuscript is trying to do and then figure out what will help it do that better.
About the Author
Cassie Armstrong is the owner of MorningStar Editing LLC. She is a book editor, writing coach, and mentor with more than nineteen years of experience helping authors strengthen their manuscripts.
She specializes in children’s books, cookbooks, and craft/how-to books and has worked with publishers, packagers, and independent authors. Her editorial approach begins with understanding the manuscript, the writer’s goals, and what kind of support will help move the project forward.
Cassie believes editing should strengthen the writer, not just the manuscript.