On the Basics: Putting it in writing

© Ruth E. Thaler-Carter, Owner

An American Editor

© An American Editor. Content may not be recirculated, republished or otherwise used without both the prior permission of the publisher and full credit to the author of a given post and the An American Editor blog, including a live link to the post being referenced. Thank you for respecting our rights to and ownership of our work.

Note: The author is not an attorney and this article does not constitute legal advice.

It comes up so often in various places: Do editors (or any publishing pros) need contracts with clients? This is especially relevant for freelance editors and proofreaders who work directly with individual authors, whether academics seeking help with their dissertations or people writing books to be self-published, although some who aim for — or even have contracts for — traditional publishing might seek editors or proofreaders on their own.

There are two reasons for that: Aspiring authors are often savvy enough to get their manuscripts edited before submitting their work to agents or publishers, and, as most of us know, publishing houses are cutting back on in-house editors and putting the onus of that quality control step on authors. (Both of those instances create more opportunities for freelancers, but that’s another essay topic.)

As I said recently in an online conversation, it’s definitely smart to have a contract. I do know colleagues who have worked without one and never had a problem. That’s great, and I’m glad for them — but still no reason not to have a contract.

Some clients will already have a contract for you to sign; it’s when they don’t that we should all consider having our own, ready to use.

The purpose of a contract is to protect both parties, not just yourself. On your behalf, a contract spells out what you will do, when, for how much, etc. That protects you against any misunderstanding about your role or being asked to do work you weren’t expecting, or being paid, to do. For your client, a contract formalizes what they can expect from you and gives them a basis to trust that you will do what they expect and you promise. Keep that mutual benefit in mind if you venture into using a contract for the first time and/or encounter a new client at any point who resists the idea.

Contract elements

A contract of your own doesn’t have to be complicated, lengthy or packed with legalese. It doesn’t even have to involve an attorney.

I keep a list of items that are almost always, if not always, elements of a project. It’s easy to adapt the list to a new client or project as a contract.

Essentially, bullet out what you will do for an average project: type of work (level of edit, proofread, write, index, etc.; number of words for a writing assignment, items for an index, illustrations for book or other graphics project, etc.), schedule or timeframe and fee for each task, deadline(s), anticipated expenses for reimbursement (such as mileage cost — I charge either mileage or time traveling and meeting, not both — or supplies, software versions, etc.), number of passes for editing or revisions for writing and illustrations, language to protect against scope creep, copyright, phone call or e-mail message policy, median policy, etc.

When I was doing onsite conference reporting, I would ask that the client purchase the plane ticket and put hotel accommodations on their account, so I didn’t have to use my own money and wait to be reimbursed. That would be in our contract or agreement.

State when payment is due and; the standard is within 30 days of invoice date. Many clients will pay sooner than that, although some might pay later — you need to establish that so you can budget accordingly. I don’t like 45- or 60-day payment schedules, but I can handle them if I know that’s the client’s policy before I accept the project. Although my contracts say that payment is due upon receipt of invoice, and invoices say “Payable upon receipt,” I assume I won’t be paid until those 30 days elapse, so anything before that is a pleasant surprise.  

Include a late fee policy.

For large or ongoing projects, your contract can ask for an advance or retainer, if you think that will be acceptable to the client, and include an interim payment process: an advance or deposit, with payments at specific points (such as number of hours or pages), and whether payment will be made before you hand off the finished project. Be prepared for publishers, publications, organizations, business, etc., not to accept such arrangements, but individual authors are often, if not usually, amenable to doing so.

Your contract can state that copyright for the edited or proofed version of a client’s document remains with you until you’ve been paid in full. That’s most likely to be effective (and sometimes necessary) with independent authors, but Rich Adin, founder of the An American Editor blog, was able to use that policy with major publishers that were paying very, very slowly for his work.

In the light of legislation that is encouraging employers to force their freelancers into becoming employees, you also might want to include language in a contract about your status as a freelancer or contractor.

Your contract can state how you prefer to be paid (check, PayPal or banking apps like Zelle and Square, direct deposit to your bank account, etc.).

It’s quite possible that once you’ve created your checklist, projects will come along that require adding new items to it. The checklist is simply a template or starting point. You will probably have to tailor it to every client and project that comes along.

What not to include

I don’t charge for paper, ink, software or hardware, because those are my costs of doing business and my fees or rates should be enough to cover those expenses. However, colleagues who are expected to print manuscripts of a couple hundred pages, especially in color, might want to be reimbursed for the impact of that on printer toner or copier ink. I would definitely include reimbursement shipping/delivery for sending back a marked-up manuscript, or ask to use the client’s FedEx/UPS account.

You probably don’t have to include charges for long-distance phone calls, since so much of our work these days is via e-mail and other electronic mechanisms.

When to say no

Keep in mind that non-individuals such as publishing houses and businesses often have their own contracts that we have to accept if we want the work. Some are straightforward, some are complex, some are downright draconian, some are negotiable — you can delete, or ask to delete, clauses that don’t make sense.

One such item that comes up a lot these days involves insurance. If the client usually hires contractors with their own employees who work at the client’s jobsite or other location and operate vehicles or equipment on behalf of the client, they might have a standard contract that requires a level of liability insurance that isn’t essential or even appropriate for a freelance editor, proofreader, writer, designer, photographer, etc. That happens when it’s the first time the client has used a freelancer.

I once turned down a dream writing and editing project because the contract would have created an unreasonable onus of responsibility for things beyond my control: It called for my role to have legal liability for any and all errors in the published work — when others could make changes to what I submitted, without my knowledge. I’m fine with taking responsibility for the accuracy and quality of my work, but I can’t accept responsibility for what someone else does to it after it leaves my hands.

My approach to contracts

After establishing project details with the client, I “Save As” my checklist, rename and adjust it as needed, and send it back attached to an e-mail message with a cover note along the lines of “Per our discussion(s), the attached document will serve as our letter of agreement/contract.”

For the clients who pay me by the hour, I use a very basic Excel worksheet with a column for date, task, hourly rate and percentage of an hour/hours per task; Excel handles the percentages and adds up the hours/dollars for me. Each month, I do Save As to create a new log or tracking document for the new month for each client. (I’ve found that the key is to remember to enter every project for a given client as soon as I finish it, rather than wait until end of the month to enter anything, or I forget half of them.) That log goes with the invoice.

There are lots of contract and invoice templates all over the Internet, including in Word and from various professional associations. An excellent book about contracts is The Paper It’s Written On: Defining Your Relationship with an Editing Client by Karin Cather and Dick Margulis — they wrote it for editors, but most of it can be applied to almost anyone with an independent business.

When has a contract, or lack of one, become an issue for you? How did you handle it?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is an award-winning provider of editorial and publishing services for publications, independent authors, publishers, associations, nonprofits and companies worldwide, and the editor-in-chief and owner of An American Editor. She created the annual Communication Central Be a Better Freelancer^® conference for colleagues (www.communication-central.com), now co-hosted with the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (www.naiwe.com) and sponsored by An American Editor. She also owns A Flair for Writing (www.aflairforwriting.com), which helps independent authors produce and publish their books. She can be reached at Ruth@writerruth.com or Ruth.Thaler-Carter@AnAmericanEditor.com.

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On the Basics — How writers and editors can find each other and work well together

© Ruth E. Thaler-Carter, Owner

An American Editor

© An American Editor. Content may not be recirculated, republished or otherwise used without both the prior permission of the publisher and full credit to the author of a given post and the An American Editor blog, including a live link to the post being referenced. Thank you for respecting our rights to and ownership of our work.

One of the hardest things for an author to do after — or while — writing their book is finding and working with an editor. Questions about that aspect of the publishing process often show up in social media. Here’s my take on it.

First steps — the writing process

First and foremost, and even before thinking about working with an editor, every aspiring author needs a community. Many common questions about the writing craft and process can be answered by other writers, both in person and virtually through social media. Look for a local writers’ center or association that might host groups for writers to learn from and support each (professionally, not financially!). If your hometown doesn’t appear to have such a resource, check with area bookstores and libraries, which often host groups for writers. (There are lots of such groups online, but many of us prefer to meet and interact in person.)

If all else fails, start your own group! Your favorite bookstore, library branch or coffee shop might be willing to provide meeting space, often without a fee (although coffee shops rightfully prefer that people using their space buy something, even if it’s just a cup of coffee per person).

Your group can be made up only of other writers, whether aspiring or established. It can also be a way to meet agents, publishers, promoters and publicists, editors and proofreaders, illustrators and designers, and other partners in your efforts.

Just a warning to writers: Like everywhere else in life, the writing world has its trolls. Don’t believe everything everyone says, especially the negatives. Try to be objective and informed about advice from someone who might have a grievance with publishers, other writers, organizations and members of the writing world such as editors.

If you’ve never written and published anything before, consider taking a basic composition class at a local college, university, writer’s center or library. Even a high school continuing education program could be the source of a useful refresher class on composition, grammar and usage, and other elements of good writing. Do your best to build your skills in creating characters, writing dialogue, organizing and maintaining story lines, being consistent in descriptions and other important details, using correct language, and making your work the best you can. That will serve you well in the next steps to publication.

Then get to writing!

And as soon as you even start thinking about writing something you hope to see get published, also start putting money aside for other vital steps in the process: editing, proofreading (whether you plan to self-publish and be published traditionally; cover design, layout and production, promotion and publicity (if you plan to self-publish). Good editing, as well as any other service you might want to use, requires the services of a trained, experienced, professionally editor — and not everyone who claims to fill that role actually can do so. Choosing someone who charges the least, especially through online platforms that connects aspiring authors with self-proclaimed editors, is also not the best way to serve your precious project.

Next steps — assessment

No matter how much experience anyone has in writing for publication, everyone needs an editor and proofreader. It also doesn’t hurt to have a manuscript evaluation or assessment, for a sense of what does and doesn’t work in your material that you could fix before handing it off to an editor.

You can use your writers’ group connections for what’s called beta reading: having people representing prospective readers read some or all of your manuscript and let you know what they think does and doesn’t result in a readable, interesting, worth publishing project. Beta readers usually don’t charge.

And keep in mind that English teachers are not editors. English teachers are immensely important; it’s just that they look for and fix different things from what editors seek and fix. The two are not the same, and one shouldn’t be relied on to provide what the other is needed for.

We need English teachers to provide a strong foundation in grammar, punctuation, spelling (yes, even with spellcheckers!), organization, usage and more so people can write clearly and logically. We need editors to fix what authors get wrong in those areas and more.

Finding editors

Like everything else these days, you can find editors — or people who call themselves editors — online, and often for very little money. But cheap is rarely good.

Look into the resources of organizations like the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors, ACES: The Society for Editing, Editorial Freelancers Association, and similar organizations in countries other than the USA. Most have ways for writers to list their projects, usually for free (the listing, that is; not the editing work!), and membership directories that provide solid information about someone’s training, experience, skills, testimonials and other important details.

There are also organizations for editors in specific fields — romance, travel, medicine, technology, science, animals (cats/dogs/horses/birds), and almost any other topic.

There are groups in LinkedIn and Facebook for editors and writers to find each other, and many editors have accounts or profiles in those platforms.

Most established editors have websites where you can learn more about their backgrounds, experience, approaches and other important details.

If you know of anyone who has published their writing, ask them for referrals or recommendations. Some authors mention their editors in their published books; look at the acknowledgments in books in your genre for names you might try to contact.

Those local writers’ groups and organizations also can provide leads to editors for you.

Finding authors

Editors can be proactive in finding writers to work for and with. Consider joining writers’ groups, both online and in person, through writers’ centers and organizations, publishing associations, and similar outlets. Offer advice and answer writers’ questions to build a reputation for knowledge and helpfulness. Make your genre or topic expertise known. Encourage your clients to refer and recommend you — such testimonials are the absolute best way to find new clients.

The why and the how

Why hire an editor? Because it’s almost impossible to be objective about our own writing and see various types of problems or errors, especially in something we’ve worked on for a long time and self-edited as much as possible.

Yes, we can use computer resources such as spellchecker to improve spelling and catch egregious errors — but those can be wrong or miss problems. Depending on what a manuscript needs, editors can help with everything from structure/organization and plot or timelines to characterization, dialogue, historical or geographical accuracy, coherence, consistency in many areas (names, places, eras, numbers, dates, appearances, etc.), and much more. Every writer needs that objective editor’s eye on their work to make it the best it can be.

Don’t be put off if an editor asks you to sign a contract or letter of agreement. That protects both of you by establishing who will do what, when and for how much. (An excellent resource is The Paper It’s Written On … by Dick Margulis and Karin Cather.)

An editor might include language in their contract or agreement that says the edited version of your book belongs to them until they are paid in full. That doesn’t mean you lose ownership of your work; just that you do not own and may not use or publish the edited version until you fulfill your side of the bargain.

And please don’t worry about an editor stealing your work. If you do a good job of checking references and assessing the training, skills and experience before hiring an editor, that won’t be a factor. Genuine professional editors do not steal authors’ work (and, in all honesty, most isn’t financially worth stealing, no matter how well-written, original or evocative it might be). You own your manuscript as soon as you create it.

Next steps — working with your editor

Most editors are kind and thoughtful even when they have to relay discouraging news about a writer’s “baby.” Some might come across as more brusque than they realize, but they aren’t trying to hurt a writer’s feelings. Try not to take offense or feel personally attacked if an editor points out areas to improve or correct. Your editor isn’t attacking you or your work; they are are trying to lead you to ways to make your story or book better and stronger — more interesting, clear, relevant and accurate.

It’s OK to ask prospective editors to provide a sample of how they would approach your manuscript. Just be sure to send the exact same section or sample to everyone you’re considering, whether it’s two editors or two dozen. And don’t be surprised if some editors prefer not to provide a free sample of their work. Plenty of skilled, professional, worth-hiring editors will do a reasonable sample for you. Those who don’t probably have been burned in the past.

Some editors are more comfortable with interaction throughout a project while others prefer to just do the work and send it back to you, with the understanding that you can ask questions about changes that you don’t follow or want to make. Just be prepared to pay for the time it takes for an editor to respond to frequent questions about the project.

If you’re worried about paying for a professional-level edit, see if you can arrange payment in increments — a deposit when the editing begins and interim payments as the work continues. That makes it easier to pay for the editing work than having to come up with a large sum all at once at the end of the project. Some editors will request final payment before handing over the finished work, which is understandable.

The relationship between writer and editor can and ideally will be constructive, supportive and productive. Keep these tips in mind and your project should be all of that.

What else would our writer subscribers like to know about working with an editor? What would our editor colleagues like to add about making the relationship its best and most successful?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is an award-winning provider of editorial and publishing services for publications, independent authors, publishers, associations, nonprofits and companies worldwide, and the editor-in-chief and owner of An American Editor. She created the annual Communication Central Be a Better Freelancer^® conference for colleagues (www.communication-central.com), now co-hosted with the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (www.naiwe.com) and sponsored by An American Editor. She also owns A Flair for Writing (www.aflairforwriting.com), which helps independent authors produce and publish their books. She can be reached at Ruth@writerruth.com or Ruth.Thaler-Carter@AnAmericanEditor.com.

On the Basics: Rewriting and editing my life by becoming an artist

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter

Owner, An American Editor

© An American Editor. Content may not be recirculated, republished or otherwise used without both the prior permission of the publisher and full credit to the author of a given post and the An American Editor blog, including a live link to the post being referenced. Thank you for respecting our rights to and ownership of our work.

As I’m about to reach a milestone birthday, I found myself wanting to do something new and creative — and I’m doing it! I call it rewriting or editing my life. When a colleague asked for experiences of learning something new at an, um, advanced age, I found myself writing enough to turn it into this post, especially since she only used a small part of my response.

I took classes in ceramics many, many years ago in junior high, even had a piece in an exhibition, and always wanted to do that again. I finally got back to it last year when I found a craft center nearby where I could work on my own after taking a class to prove that I know what I’m doing. I’ve made a few pieces and am going to do more. Not only is this a fun and fulfilling creative outlet, but there’s something very satisfying about pounding a hunk of clay to work with it. Techniques came back to life as soon as I started doing it again. It felt like coming home; coming back to part of me I had forgotten about.

What’s completely new is making art in glass. I’ve been copyediting artists’ articles for a glass art magazine (as well as editing a newsletter for an organization in the decorative arts) for several years and thought I should try my hand at glass work to have a better sense of what those artists are doing. Someone I dated in my previous St. Louis time works in that medium and I decided to check it out after stopping by the studio where he works to say hello. I learned that I don’t have the patience or hand strength for blown glass, but apparently am pretty good at making tiles and similar pieces that use different techniques. The studio’s gallery manager invited me to display pieces and be added to their website, and I’ve already sold a couple pieces — and have an actual commission in hand!

It’s exciting and uplifting to learn and practice glass techniques. Working with glass made me feel like a newbie at first, but I liked it. Learning as an adult feels more real somehow — I have a better sense of what I want to do than I did in school days, and I don’t feel worried about how anything turns out.

I’m making art a habit — the weekends are my art time. It’s just me and the cat nowadays, so I can play with art as long as I don’t have work deadlines to meet, and even those are usually during the week.

I’m using the craft center and glass studio for most of the supplies I need, including kiln time for both mediums. If these projects work out as well as they promise to, my dining room can become my workspace and I can set up a kiln in the basement of my condo building and be more independent. If this really takes off, who knows — I might end up with my own studio or gallery!

Doing this has been wonderful for my life, health, joy, stress relief and sense of accomplishment. I don’t feel stressed very often, but pounding on a hunk of clay takes care of any that does arise. Making art gets me out and among new connections, including people who see me as an artist. It gives me a huge sense of accomplishment, especially because the staff at the glass studio priced my work much higher than I would have dared!

I’m working on setting up an Etsy shop that will feature both glass and clay. In the meantime, if you’d like to see some of my glass work, go to:

https://stlglass.square.site/s/search?q=ruth

For anyone interested in learning something new, there’s only one perspective: As the ad campaign goes, “just do it” — it could be a lot of fun. It could even be no fun — but something new and adventurous is rarely a mistake.

Editing your life by adding a new skill of any type has another business-related benefit: It forces you to apply everything you know about writing, editing, proofreading and networking to make the best possible product and present it to the world in the best possible ways — just as you do with your editorial or publishing business.

And a lesson from the editorial business perspective: It’s rarely too late to “edit” your life by adding new skills, services and interests, whether in the publishing world or elsewhere. Doing something new could even add to your editing (writing, proofreading, design, etc.) client base by giving you visibility in that new area and the experience to feel confident about accepting projects in that area. For anyone feeling as if your editing business is getting stale, taking a new path could be the refresher you need.

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is an award-winning provider of editorial and publishing services for publications, independent authors, publishers, associations, nonprofits and companies worldwide, and the editor-in-chief and owner of An American Editor. She created the annual Communication Central Be a Better Freelancer^® conference for colleagues (www.communication-central.com), now co-hosted with the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (www.naiwe.com) and sponsored by An American Editor. She also owns A Flair for Writing (www.aflairforwriting.com), which helps independent authors produce and publish their books. She can be reached at Ruth@writerruth.com or Ruth.Thaler-Carter@AnAmericanEditor.com.

Guest article: Perspectives from an editor who is blind

© Billy Horsburgh

© An American Editor. Content may not be recirculated, republished or otherwise used without both the prior permission of the publisher and full credit to the author of a given post and the An American Editor blog, including a live link to the post being referenced. Thank you for respecting our rights to and ownership of our work.

Who would have thought a blind person can edit. With the correct tools, knowledge, skills and experience — lot of things are possible.

I haven’t been blind from birth. I used to have perfect vision. Well, near-perfect, anyway. I wore glasses since I was five years old, and it wasn’t until I was in my late teens that I lost my eyesight due to glaucoma. But I did not lose my vision.

I was never a reader, or indeed a writer, until I lost my sight, although my favorite school subject was English and I was often distracted and wrote little stories during lessons when I was supposed to be doing something else. It was only when adaptive technology began to emerge during the late 1990s that I was able to consider reading and writing properly. I liked to write, but I didn’t like to read. However, in later life, I learned that you can’t write if you don’t read. And this is true.

Twenty-three years have passed since I lost my sight. I write regularly now. This would not have been possible without audiobooks and my screenreading software called supernova. Screenreading software has allowed me to write several books, graduate with two degrees and launch my own editing business.

The clients I edit for are more than satisfied with the quality, care and professionalism of my work. Due to my blindness, I must establish a close relationship with anyone I take on board by explaining about my situation. The Royal National Institute of Blind people (RNIB) suggests that it takes a blind person six times longer to carry out a basic task. This is no different when editing. I make sure my client knows this before accepting any editorial work. My clients understand that my turnaround may be a little longer than others but the professionalism will be the same. The price, however, will always be lower.

Because I can’t see the words on the page, I have to rely on my listening skills. Many people think that because you lose your sight, your hearing is heightened. This is not true! You just learn to use it better, and that I do. And I probably have to concentrate more when writing and editing. Once I’ve finished a piece, I read through my work by pushing a button on my keyboard, which allows me to continuously read what I have been working on. This makes me listen closely so I can pick up any additional errors.

I only launched my editing business in mid-July of 2022 and I’m gradually building a portfolio of clients. I haven’t developed a large client base as yet, but the ones I have secured do return to me.

I often find, when I do a readthrough of someone’s work, that I think, “This is well written. How am I supposed to edit this?” However, when I re-visit with fresh eyes, as they say, I pick up on many areas that do need to be re-worked or revised.

Some of my clients don’t see what I see when suggesting edits. For example, when I recently edited for someone, I said, “This paragraph would be better moved here. And this sentence doesn’t flow. It may be better placed here, or not [used] at all.” When editing for another client, I noticed a very different picture: Her stories are about her but when I began to edit, I suggested she restructure her story so it focused on her from the outset, because otherwise, the audience wouldn’t know about her disabilities until many chapters later.

The author may overlook these simple changes.

These are just a couple of examples of how I edit for clients and they are happy with the way I work. They don’t mind if I take that little bit longer due to the nature of my disability. As long as they are getting the service they are looking for, both parties are satisfied.

Because I can’t see facial expressions, I pick up on [tone and meaning] when I edit for other people. I believe my writing and editing skills have improved over the years as I have had to learn to adapt to different methods. I can notice ambiguities and errors in continuity; if there are too many repetitions or too many adverbs; as well as basic spelling, grammar or errors of weak intensifiers.

A blind person can edit. And I am not the only blind editor. I know of another who has regular clients she edits for, and the outcome is the same for her. We have similar university degrees and are both creative writers, but I have a master’s degree in creative writing. Thanks to my two degrees, I have gained the appropriate and correct tools, knowledge, skills and experience to become the professional editor all my clients are happy with.

Thinking Fiction: Passing Judgment on Other People’s Creative Work

© An American Editor. Content may not be recirculated, republished or otherwise used without both the prior permission of the publisher and full credit to the author of a given post and the An American Editor blog, including a live link to the post being referenced. Thank you for respecting our rights to and ownership of our work.

Carolyn Haley

If you’re a fiction author or editor and want to up your game, try judging a writing contest. That will give you a view from the other side, which will give your own work more perspective and meaning.

It will also test your technical knowledge. Contests can cover anything from storycraft to full publishing packages. Some contests are for works in process, others for published works; some are for short fiction, others for novels.

There are so many contests that the subject warrants its own essay. This essay is about my personal experience in judging independently published novels, since that’s the realm wherein I work. I figured that decades of editing, writing, producing, and reviewing novels qualified me to judge them in a competition.

The game-changer

The main challenge in judging creative works is how to balance subjectivity against objectivity. My first two contests involved just a handful of criteria and a handful of books. Evaluation was easy, so I eagerly stepped up to another level. The third contest, however, felt like a college course from which I barely graduated after exuding much blood, sweat, and tears.

The contest is a well-known one with status in indie publishing. Entrants pay a hefty fee to participate. The fees, however, do not add up enough to support cash prizes, or to pay the many judges. We judges volunteer for whatever reasons. Mine were curiosity and a desire to learn, with the fantasy that someday I would qualify to judge at the top tier.

As a multi-genre editor and reviewer secure in my skills, I was floored when assigned my category: Best First Novel. This required evaluating a mix of genres for “best package wins.” I might as well have been judging apples against bananas to decide which was the best fruit.

My titles included science fiction, fantasy, literary fiction, historical fiction, speculative fiction, magical realism, thrillers, a contemporary Western, two short-story collections, and a couple I’m not sure how to define.

The judging criteria comprised story content, story craft, story appropriateness to genre, mechanical correctness of the writing, quality of editing and proofreading, cover design (back, front, and spine, including images and typography), interior design (including images and typography), completeness (i.e., did it include an ISBN, title page, copyright page), and quality of paper and binding. Considering these factors exercised all the publishing-related skills and knowledge I’ve acquired over my career.

The judging system was numerical (scale of 1 to 10) per criterion, each book independent from the rest. The criteria were designed to make liking or disliking any factor irrelevant. While I’m used to dialing back personal taste in my work, here I had to unplug it entirely. That was hard enough. But then came the catch:

After scoring each book objectively, we then had to rank them subjectively in the event of a tie. A tie might occur because a judge scored two or more books to the same total; also because every category had three judges who worked blind to one another. Just as the contestants had no knowledge of who was judging their work, the judges had no knowledge of who was judging the same material. If, for example, one of the top positions came out even when the numbers were totted up, there had to be some way to distinguish them and determine the awards.

The conundrum

Unlike many literary contests these days, this one was for printed books only, which added a storage and disposal challenge. Boxes of books arrived in two installments over four months. As a new judge, I received only 20 books, compared to dozens for the experienced judges. We were not required to read them all cover to cover (thank goodness!) but to do a thorough scan of beginning, middle, and end, with sampling checks in between, to gauge story structure, style, and mechanicals. I read half of mine all the way through.

Subjectively, I liked only one book and two of the covers. Objectively, I immediately saw two contenders for the package win. A few qualifiers for second and third eventually emerged. The rest fell into the slush pile, from which I had to select a top 10.

I found that rating the books individually, then rating them against one another, was painful. It also took far more time than I’d anticipated, so I had to drop other activities for the contest duration. At about the halfway point, I started counting down time until it would be over.

The results have not been announced as of this writing, so I do not know whether my efforts were worth it for the contestants. But, hair-tearing as the experience was, it was worth it to me in terms of continuing education as an editor and a writer.

Key learning points

Editing and writing are open-ended pursuits, in that you never stop learning and can always improve. As well, each informs the other, whether at a professional or personal level.

Here is what I learned after judging Contest #3.

• The importance of cover design

Each entrant had to state the novel’s target audience on the entry form, so judges could analyze the effectiveness of the author’s aim. In my group, almost every book wobbled or failed in this respect. Only one front cover clearly conveyed what to expect inside the wrapper. Back covers ranged from lame to dreadful, with one being unreadable. Others skipped a summary blurb and just pasted reviews over the complete space. I can’t imagine why, because readers are unlikely to pick up a book that gives no clue to what the story is about.

Which directly relates to …

• The importance of genre selection

As I’ve learned from editing many first novels by indie authors, there’s always a good story idea. The question is how well it’s executed. This includes targeting the appropriate audience. In my contest category, it appeared that most authors did not know who they were writing for, which created a disconnect between the story, the style, the cover, the blurb, and the author’s desired readership. Frequently, the cover suggested one genre and the rest of the package conveyed another. In such cases, the book is almost certainly doomed to commercial failure.

• The importance of copyediting and proofreading

A good story compensates a lot for weak production, and in the real world, some readers don’t notice or care about technical bloopers in prose. Indeed, plenty of indie authors take advantage of that to release sloppy products — and they still gain sales and positive reviews. They’re not going to win awards, however. At least not from this judge. In my opinion, a handful of bloopers is forgivable; we’re all human. But a truckload of bloopers conveys any combination of author/publisher ignorance, laziness, or disdain for readers. Given how much information on writing and publishing is available via the internet, books, articles, and classes, it’s hard to believe authors and publishers can be so clueless. Perhaps competitions are their own route to education.

• The importance of interior design

I hadn’t thought much about typography and margins and such before this contest, but after seeing so many bad layouts, I came to understand why interior design matters. Some books are physically hard to read. Skinny gutters in fat paperbacks motivate you to break the spine because the book is springing back at you all the time and curving the lines into the crease. Bad vertical spacing and long line length can lead to pages so densely packed you keep losing your place as you read. Small type size requires magnifying lenses even for people under 40. And relying on the automatic spacing of a word processing program can lead to gappy, hard-to-read text that a professional typographer would never let out the door.

• The importance of paying attention

Two entrants in my category submitted advance reader copies (ARCs), while everybody else submitted published finals. The contest rules didn’t specifically prohibit ARCs, but when they showed up in my pile, I tried to get the entries disqualified. I thought it unfair to judge works in process against published works, since they might change in any direction from what I held in my hand.

It turned out the contest organizers weren’t paying attention, either. Their wording of the submission requirements was easy to misinterpret, allowing me and most of my contestants to assume that the requirement for books to be copyrighted in the contest year meant that they had to be published in the contest year. After I pointed this out, I was assured the submission language would be adjusted for the following year. But for this year, I had to treat unequal entries as equal.

This gave me an attitude problem. The principle of the thing was one matter; there was also a personal grievance. In 2020, one of my own novels had been bounced from a different contest because of copyright date. My book was originally published traditionally in 2015; when the contract expired, I took back the rights, repackaged it, and self-published it with a 2020 copyright date. The contest organizers decided that its real copyright was 2015 and disqualified the entry.

It happens that my story was first written decades earlier, and thus entered legitimate copyright status the moment it came into existence. Each revision, technically, engendered a new copyright. By the time I self-published it, the story had gone through dozens of iterations. So what was the true copyright date?

Methinks from these examples that contest requirements have to be precise on this point. I encourage all authors and judges to read the fine print twice, and in case of doubt, query the organizers before committing to involvement.

The power of wallet

The final lesson from this experience was the importance of money. Many (most?) indie authors get a whopping great sticker shock when they choose to publish independently. To develop a book to the quality standards established by traditional publishing takes either thousands of dollars or massive hours of self-education; usually both.

In my stack of entries, I could almost calculate each author’s budget by where the money obviously did or did not go. Likewise, the authors’ knowledge of the publishing process (or lack thereof) was transparent. The winner in my category was evident the moment I pulled it from the box. Everything about the book was outstanding — writing, editing, cover, blurb, binding, interior all reflected author payment for professional services. No other entrant came close. Some made me cringe in embarrassment for the author because the books were so poorly done.

Low production quality has been a dominant factor in all three contests I’ve judged. They’ve convinced me that the traditional arm of the publishing industry has nothing to worry about from the indie arm for a while yet to come. Indeed, when I read for recreation and relaxation, I go straight to traditionally published books from reputable houses. Despite how much they have trimmed staff and tightened budgets in recent years, traditional publishers still leave indie publishers in the dust when it comes to physical product.

Of course, there are exceptions, but if my limited experience reflects reality, then only a small percentage of independently published novels present themselves on par with the average traditionally published novel.

This is something to think about for indie authors — and the editors who help them — desiring to get great reviews, win awards, and make money in the fiction marketplace. I knew this in theory before I started judging, but now I know it for sure.

Carolyn Haley is an award-winning novelist who lives and breathes novels. Although specializing in fiction, she edits across the publishing spectrum — fiction and nonfiction, corporate and indie — and is the author of three novels and a nonfiction book. She has been editing professionally since 1997 and has had her own editorial services company, DocuMania, since 2005. She can be reached at dcma@vermontel.net or through DocuMania. She also reviews for the New York Journal of Books, and has presented about editing fiction at Communication Central conferences.

On the Basics — What is editing? What is it supposed to do?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter, Owner

An American Editor

A lot of sites and groups purport to offer expert advice about writing and editing. Some of it is good, some of it is bad and some of it inspires additional conversation. A recent online conversation discussed whether editing is supposed to make a piece of writing shorter vs. longer after a colleague saw a statement in a writing group that editing means making things shorter; when he responded that editing can also make things longer, he was told that’s revising, not editing. Other participants responded with the classics: Shakespeare’s “Brevity is the soul of wit” and Mark Twain’s “I’d have written a shorter letter, but I didn’t have time.”

Yes, making a work more concise is often part of editing, and usually a good thing, but that isn’t all there is to editing. I’m with the colleague who sees editing as sometimes making something longer. Authors can be so familiar with their topics that they don’t realize their readers might need more detail, untrained in writing and apt to over-write or write without organization and structure, or in such a hurry to meet a deadline that they leave out important aspects of a topic. A skilled editor can help make the document meet its goal of completing incomplete material, and that usually requires adding to it.

There are also writers who just open the mental floodgates and write without planning, expecting their editors to make sense of the material or battle it down to meet a required length for them. Sometimes I do that to myself: I’ll write out everything I have for an article, then go back and cut it down if I have to meet a specific word count. (I save the longer version in case I find a use for the material I’ve cut to fulfill the assignment.)

When I’m wearing my editor hat, I cut a bit or add a bit, whichever is appropriate (with the caveat that I provide copyediting; I’m not interested in the much-harder work of developmental or substantive editing these days). Every document is different, and likely to require a different approach. To me, editing simply makes a written work better, which can mean cutting it down if needed; making it longer if needed; or simply making it clear, consistent, accurate and readable without changing the word count — perhaps by changing some words for ones that are a better fit but keep the manuscript at the same overall count — all while respecting the author’s voice. And even “better” can be a subjective matter, just to add to the complexity of the process.

What colleagues say

A recent issue of the ACES: The Society for Copyediting newsletter offered these perspectives about the meaning of editing, all of which ring true, at least for me:

Charita Ray-Blakely in “Editors should understand the possible pitfalls of anthropomorphism”: “One fundamental task of editing is to promote clarity in content”

Christine Steele, quoting or paraphrasing John Russial’s Strategic Copy Editing (Guildford Press, 2004) in “Critical-thinking copyediting”:

“Editing is not about nitpicking and finding mistakes — it is about making choices”

“Editing is about critical thinking”

“Editing is about working together and respecting others”

“Editing is about balancing perfection and pragmatism”

“Editing is about ethics”

The owners of the Editorial Arts Academy, judging from a recent Facebook post, lean toward the brevity perspective: “‘Less is More’ is the guiding principle when it comes to line editing. Authors don’t pay editors to rewrite their words but rather to improve on what is already there.”

And finally, Ally Machate of the Writer’s Ally posted that “Debut books often have shorter word counts than those from successful authors” and provided some comparisons between genres, career stages and more at: http://wordcounters.com/?fbclid=IwAR0rxdeLOjhI93UHdT4dcYaavtWNtxe4-OyJAMxODebu4q5dX6i3uUD4TMs.

Managing challenges

One of the challenges for many of us is not just defining substantive, developmental, line and copyediting to make it easier to establish what we’ll do with (or to) a manuscript, but to educate clients about the difference between editing and proofreading. How many of us have been asked to “just proofread” a document, only to see that it desperately needs editing? I’m sure that’s happened to many, if not all, of us, because a client either honestly doesn’t understand the difference or is less honestly trying to get editing work done for the price (perceived as lower) of proofreading. Establishing and hewing to these boundaries is not just a matter of defining levels of editing or what editing means, but a huge factor in figuring out how much time, effort and money will go into any given editing project, whether you’re working freelance or in-house.

Cutting extraneous, redundant or unclear material is part of editing. Fleshing out incomplete ideas can be part of editing, although it’s often more appropriate to suggest to the author that they should expand or complete something, especially if you’re copyediting. There’s more room to do that kind of revision with substantive or developmental editing, although too much actual added wording by the editor can become co-authorship or ghostwriting. 

One area where cutting vs. adding words can make the editing life more complicated is (for freelancers) on the financial side: If you charge by the word, you have to decide which word count to use for your fee. Most of the people I’ve seen discuss this pricing model use the original word count, but if you’ve done a lot adding to the manuscript, you might feel cheated of your rightful fee if you can’t charge for doing so. You might need language in your contract to cover that eventuality.

There’s also one occasional headache in the area of word count: how to account for the actual number of words. As I found out this past week, Word can’t always be relied upon to provide the correct count. My version suddenly showed what I knew was a 700-word document I was writing as having only 187 words; apparently the program got stuck at some point in the manuscript and didn’t “see” the rest of it. Copy-and-pasting into a new document cured the problem (and it helped that I save frequently as I work, whether writing, editing or proofreading), but it was a heart-stopping moment to think that I had somehow deleted most of my hard-written words! To an editor addicted to cutting out words, that might have been a good thing to see, but it certainly wasn’t a good moment here. When I asked colleagues what might have caused that glitch, nobody knew but everybody said something similar had happened to them at least once, if not often.

Experiences among us

How do you define editing, and your role as an editor, in terms of when/whether to cut and when/whether to add? What challenges have you had in establishing a definition and communicating it to clients or colleagues? How often has cutting vs. adding words been a factor?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is an award-winning provider of editorial and publishing services for publications, independent authors, publishers, associations, nonprofits and companies worldwide, and the editor-in-chief and owner of An American Editor. She created the annual Communication Central Be a Better Freelancer^® conference for colleagues (www.communication-central.com), now co-hosted with the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (www.naiwe.com) and sponsored by An American Editor. She also owns A Flair for Writing (www.aflairforwriting.com), which helps independent authors produce and publish their books. She can be reached at Ruth@writerruth.com or Ruth.Thaler-Carter@AnAmericanEditor.com.

On the Basics: What do experienced, successful freelancers “owe” to the newcomers?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter, Owner

An American Editor

Someone recently posted an opinion in a journalism group that successful freelancers should give up their businesses for the sake of new freelancers. It made me think about what, if anything, successful and experienced people owe to those who are new to a profession in general or type of business in particular.

As most of you know, I’m a huge believer in being helpful to colleagues — at all levels of their careers or businesses, whether established or just starting out, working in-house or freelance, and any other aspect of their business lives. Not just out of gratitude to colleagues who have been helpful to me, but that “rising tide lifts all boats” theory, you know.

I’ve felt a responsibility to give something back in return for the advice, camaraderie and support that I’ve received from colleagues, especially fellow freelancers. I started freelancing on my own, almost serendipitously, and finding a supportive community of colleagues (primarily through the late, lamented Washington Independent Writers; sob) was a real gift. The people who were helpful to me then didn’t need my help, but I realized I could pass on what I had learned from them and from my own experiences to those who came into freelancing — or writing/editing/proofreading, etc. — after I did.

I do believe in helping “newbies” get a firm start on their writing, editing, proofreading, etc., careers. What makes no sense is expecting any of us to shut down for some undefined benefit to newcomers, or to colleagues who have been in business for a while but are not doing well yet. I don’t even know how that would work. I might hand off a project or client to a colleague who has more of the necessary skill and experience for that work than I do, and I’ve certainly referred colleagues for projects that aren’t what I prefer to do, whether because something pays less than I expect, involves a topic I’m not interested in or requires more effort (developmental vs. copyediting, for instance) than I feel like doing these days.

It does appear that the person making this claim hasn’t had a professional-level job in communications or published any freelance work, which could explain why they want successful freelancers to save them from doing the hard work of finding an in-house job or enough freelance work to be successful. The real world, of course, doesn’t work like that.

Newcomers might appreciate mentors to help them learn the ropes of the editorial niche they want to work in, and the ins-and-outs of successful freelancing — and many of us do provide that kind of support. Some of us have been mentors, either formally or informally. Most of us share advice and  insights through our blogs, books, classes or webinars, memberships in professional associations, or visibility in various online groups (Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, etc.). Some of us train new hires, or students and early-career colleagues, at our full-time jobs. 

Freelancing has never been easy to do, as most of us here can attest. It takes more than being able to write well; edit/proofread accurately (and respectfully); create effective, readable publications; design beautiful images and documents, etc. It takes a business approach and a lot of persistence to find clients or assignments, manage finances and taxes, balance varying deadlines, and handle everything else that leads to success.

Whether someone wants a traditional publishing career or a successful freelance business, it takes time. It takes training. It takes a little humility when starting out. Those of us who are successful have put a lot of time, effort and expense into building up our careers or businesses. Most of us love what we do and thrive on doing it well. We plan to keep going as long as our physical and mental capacities make it possible. Few, if any, of us are interested in new careers or premature retirement.

Being supportive doesn’t require closing our doors to support some vague “help the newbies” vision.

How to help

Once successful, it does make sense to give back, pay it forward or however we want to think about encouraging newcomers who might need a little backup as they get started. Some of us may no longer need advice about the basics of being in business, but we can — and I think we should — pass on the benefit of our experience to others.

We were all new to our work and — for those who aren’t working in-house — to freelancing, and we all learned from others. Passing on our knowledge is a mitzvah (a good deed) or investment in good karma. But that’s very different from closing down a business for some vague idea of helping less-established or less-successful colleagues.

Which brings me to how we who are established and successful can help newcomers to editorial work, especially people who are new to freelancing. We can:

Teach — through classes, webinars, conference presentations. Advise — through blogs, publishing, discussion lists, social media outlets, presentations. Share — by suggesting books, degree or certificate training programs, webinars, organizations, tools, other resources, answers to questions. Mentor — if you have the time and energy.

Helping a colleague is rewarding in many ways. Not only is giving back an investment in the future of our profession and our own successful businesses, it is good for the soul — and it feels great. It might seem selfish, but doing good feels good, whether through advising colleagues or supporting a charitable cause.

Colleagues’ perspectives

When the time comes for me to hang up my shingle and retire from my writing/editing/proofreading/publishing business, it won’t be newcomers who will hear from me about taking on some of my clients or projects, and I won’t do it by simply closing down in the hope that someone unknown and less-established will magically benefit from my disappearance from the scene. I’ll let my clients know my plans so they can start looking for a replacement, and I’ll contact colleagues I know to see if they would like to be referred to those clients. The colleagues I contact will be experienced in the appropriate editorial niches. From the freelancing perspective, my preference will be to offer such opportunities to established, professional freelancers with successful businesses. That’s what my clients are used to and whom they would prefer to work with.

If you’re experienced and successful, how do you see your role with newcomers? If you’re new to the editorial field or to freelancing, what do you expect to receive from established, successful colleagues?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter (www.writerruth.com) is an award-winning provider of editorial and publishing services for publications, independent authors, publishers, associations, nonprofits and companies worldwide, and the editor-in-chief and owner of An American Editor. She created the annual Communication Central Be a Better Freelancer^® conference for colleagues (www.communication-central.com), now co-hosted with the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (www.naiwe.com) and sponsored by An American Editor. She also owns A Flair for Writing (www.aflairforwriting.com), which helps independent authors produce and publish their books. She can be reached at Ruth@writerruth.com or Ruth.Thaler-Carter@AnAmericanEditor.com.

Thinking Fiction: Three Types of Indie Editing Clients

Carolyn Haley

If you edit enough novels by independent authors, you’ll notice patterns in author types and ambitions. By this I mean broad patterns — which always contain exceptions — that can help guide editors in determining how to guide individual authors on their publishing journeys.

The three broad types of indie authors are those who (1) write to market (in my shorthand, the pragmatists); (2) write to express themselves then figure out how to find their audience (the dreamers); and (3) write for either/both reasons and believe that everyone is their audience (the in-betweeners).

In this context, writing styles and genres are irrelevant. It’s all about expectations and approach. Every indie editing job has its unique parameters and focal points, driven by author desire, budget, and publishing goal. How these weave together is where the distinctions come into play.

(1) The pragmatists

Authors who write to market tend to do their homework before presenting their books for editing. They have clear story ideas (usually lots of), intend to make money, and have invested time in researching the rules of the game. The economically efficient ones go for cheaper services than I can offer, unless they have well-lined pockets, although it happens occasionally that they regret their first choice(s) of editor and come to me for re-editing, either before publication or in reaction to embarrassing feedback from readers after they’ve released their books independently.

In the main, this group wants copyediting or proofreading. They are confident about their writing technique and storytelling, and often have worked with beta readers to iron out the wrinkles in their content. Then they just want somebody editorially competent to do the nitpicky housekeeping.

Almost always, these authors self-publish. Many of them are DIYers who have already formatted and illustrated their manuscripts when they submit them for editing. They know exactly which publishing service they will use to release the book, and how to promote their work.

Rarely do these authors care about the minutiae of punctuation and style. That’s the editor’s job, in their minds, and all they want is to have their text made clean and consistent. From the editor’s viewpoint, these are easy jobs, and what matters is to have straightforward conversations with the author to understand their particulars, then gallop on through the project.

(2) The dreamers

This group of authors is inclined in the opposite direction. They’ve had a story burbling inside them for years, and finally their life situation has given them a chance to pour it out. Many have retired from an unrelated career and are indulging at last in their dreams.

Unlike the pragmatists who write to market, the dreamers are usually under-informed about the realities of publishing, either traditional or independent. And they’ve done little or no study about composition, grammar, narrative structure, etc., since their school days.

They seek an editor who will be their partner and guide them through the wilderness. They lean hard on the editor’s knowledge and expertise. Viewed cynically, they can be considered artistes or hobbyists, and it’s sometimes painful to work with them, knowing their passionate effort has little chance of acceptance or sales in the real world. At the same time, they can be the most satisfying to work with, because of their enthusiasm, openness, unfettered creativity, and sometimes astonishing growth.

For these authors, editors need to provide a lot of information, starting with careful definition of services and costs for each level of service. Scope of work may include education in storycraft and the publishing process, including advice about composing query letters, synopses, and jacket blurbs and taglines. Often, these authors’ dream is for traditional publishing success, which may or may not be appropriate for their work. It helps a lot if the editor has publishing experience in addition to language and writing skills.

Emotionally, this group of authors is “needy” in comparison to the pragmatists, so editors should be conscious of their own willingness to be drawn into ego support and where to draw the line. In contrast to the pragmatists “driving the bus,” the dreamers need to be chauffeured, or at least given an explicit road map.

(3) The in-betweeners

The third group, not surprisingly, is an assortment falling between the two extremes. They throw in the most variables for the editor to manage. The main challenge with such authors is defining what they’ve written and toward whom to target it, because they frequently believe that publishing is a single-step process that leads to anyone and everyone having access to their novel and wanting to read it.

For these folks, editors need to take extra time up front to figure out what the author specifically wants and/or needs. Pitching services to them might run the gamut from manuscript evaluation to a deep developmental edit, with copyediting or line editing as options. Like the dreamers, the in-betweeners usually require dialogue and sample edits to pave the way for a successful arrangement. They understand some of the logistics and value-added aspects of editing, but might have to be educated or convinced.

(4) Others

There’s a fourth group of authors that indie editors are wise to steer clear of, although editors don’t have to work hard to avoid this group because its members don’t really want to be edited — although they often have strong opinions about it.

Such authors fall into two camps. One disdains editors completely, while the other thinks editors overcharge. It’s rare to receive inquiries from either faction, but occasionally an author who recognizes that editing helps goes searching for someone to provide that help — at the cheapest possible price. An editor’s best practice when that happens is to steer them to one of the low-dollar bidding sites and wish them well.

Patterns and particulars

In simplistic terms, indie authors cluster into black, white, and gray areas, each seeking different levels of editorial involvement. Understanding these clusters helps editors form a strategy for approaching and accommodating their differences.

In all cases, frank and polite communication before committing to the job is imperative. So is a contract that spells out scope of work, and payment and delivery terms. The goal — always — is to avoid either or both parties receiving something different from what they expect and desire. Considering authors in broad types can also help editors evaluate their personal limits and design their service offerings for maximum mutual benefit.

Carolyn Haley, an award-winning novelist, lives and breathes novels. Although specializing in fiction, she edits across the publishing spectrum — fiction and nonfiction, corporate and indie —  and is the author of three novels and a nonfiction book. She has been editing professionally since 1977, and has had her own editorial services company, DocuMania, since 2005. She can be reached at dcma@vermontel.net or through her websites, DocuMania and Borealis Books. Carolyn also reviews for the New York Journal of Books, and has presented on editing fiction at Communication Central‘s Be a Better Freelancer^® conferences

Writing for review: Prepping pundits to painlessly publish peer-reviewed papers, Part 2

Geoffrey Hart

For Part 1, go to

Writing for review: Prepping pundits to painlessly publish peer-reviewed papers, Part 1

Things to expect during peer review

If English is not your author’s first language or if the author has a foreign-seeming name or foreign address, you may encounter language prejudice. This is less often racist than it is the result of such authors believing they don’t need to be edited and submitting poorly written manuscripts as a result. Publishers who receive large numbers of such manuscripts naturally seek shortcuts to reduce their workload, and may only glance quickly at the author’s cover letter or address to form an opinion. If they don’t like what they see, they may reject the manuscript or return it for revision without ever reading it, and not because it lacks merit. Thus, authors should always have their cover letter edited, not just their manuscript.

Peer review has certain recurring themes that authors must deal with, ideally with an editor’s help:

· Multiple revisions: Reviewers are chosen because they are highly educated in their fields, and because they are highly opinionated. Thus, they’re asked to be critical of manuscripts and may insist on multiple rounds of revision until they’re satisfied.

· Contradictory reviews: Reviewers have different backgrounds and biases, and this leads to very different critiques by different reviewers. You can expect reviewers to agree on major problems, since such problems are hard to miss, but you’ll often find that something one reviewer loved is anathema to another reviewer.

· Academic politics: Academic fields have many theological disputes over different points of belief (e.g., the value of social construction), and it can be difficult to satisfy a reviewer who comes from a different academic sect.

Helping authors respond to reviews is something editors do well, since we have long experience with getting inside an author’s head, and that skill translates equally well to understanding what bothered a reviewer and what changes will remove that irritation. Editors are also skilled negotiators, and can help authors find ways to reach a consensus that satisfies both the author and the reviewer. Being aware of the prevailing dogmas in a field will help editors to guide authors around the worst minefields and to build bridges over holes that would otherwise trap the unwary author and provoke a reviewer. As you gain experience in a field’s language, ways of framing arguments, and standards of evidence, you can increasingly help authors revise their work to avoid these problems.

The review process can take a long time, and if you don’t submit the best-possible manuscript, a potentially important contribution to the literature may be rejected by a prestigious publisher without the option to resubmit. Thus, one important tip is to persuade the author to work with their colleagues before they submit their manuscripts for review.

There are two good reasons for this. First, the review is likely to be done faster. Second, a rigorous and critical review by a colleague may sting, but it has no consequences other than the need to rewrite. Solving those problems before a publisher sees the manuscript means it won’t be rejected because of those problems. (It may, of course, still be rejected for other reasons.) A publisher’s reviewers are also more likely to respond positively to a manuscript that has been edited professionally.

Academic vs. non-academic audiences

Early-career academic authors tend to have a laser-like focus on writing for their peers, since they know that their peers determine how successful they’re going to be in their chosen field. However, over time, authors may gradually expand their publishing efforts beyond their circle of fellow specialists. Often, they aim to turn many years of peer-reviewed publications into something a reasonably intelligent but non-expert reader can understand. They may be writing to funding agencies to beg for money, producing op-ed pieces for the general public in newspapers or on websites, or crafting textbooks for students. Yet unless they are professional writers and well-trained in writing for different audiences, they’ll need an editor’s help to make their thoughts comprehensible to an audience that isn’t dominated by their peers. I often joke that scientists shouldn’t be allowed to communicate with the general public without adult supervision. It’s funny specifically because it’s so true.

Editors understand that different audiences require different writing styles, and can help an author learn and use the most-appropriate style or modify their approach to account for a given audience’s unique characteristics. For example, academic readers expect and are skilled at interpreting formal, jargon-heavy writing that relies on many assumptions about what readers already understand — because the readers are experts in the author’s field. In contrast, non-academic audiences require less-formal writing styles, with less jargon, and assumptions must be explained — because general audiences are experts in a wide range of things, most of which are not the author’s field of expertise.

Note: Although most academic publishers now accept manuscripts in the first-person point of view, some are reluctant, particularly when they rely on older and more-conservative peer reviewers who haven’t yet entered the 20th century (let alone the 21st). Passive voice is no longer required, but you may be called on to help an author defend the choice of first-person. An acceptable compromise is generally to emphasize active voice wherever possible and minimize the use of “I” and “we” constructions; for instructional or procedural material, imperative voice is another good alternative.

That being said, one thing remains true for almost any audience: Write simply, concisely, and clearly. Although I once (true story!) had a manuscript rejected because “it was too well written,” that’s rare these days. Even the most turgid and constipated fields of study are increasingly willing to accept a well-written manuscript. The argument and conclusions may be complex and nuanced, but the writing never should be.

Responding to peer reviews

The end of the most-difficult stage in publishing an academic manuscript comes when your author receives the comments from the reviewers. These generally fall into three main categories: acceptance with minor revision, which will mostly require minor tweaks of the text; acceptance with major revision, which requires significant additional work (e.g., more lab research, more library time, reorganization) before the publisher will even consider reviewing the manuscript again; and rejection, which may be absolute or which may (if the author has a strong argument and a sympathetic publisher) be considered the equivalent of major revision.

As an editor, I’ve helped many authors persuade the publisher that a rejection really only requires major revision, or that an acceptance with major revision really only requires minor changes. A common reason for the latter is a reviewer who says, in effect, “I know that you wanted to write about dogs, but you really should have written about cats, so I reject your argument,” Most publishers will accept a counterargument along the lines of “No, I really can’t write about felids in an article about canids that was written for a journal that publishes only shaggy dog stories,”

Note: There is a thus-far theoretical fourth response, which is “acceptance without revision.” In more than 30 years of editing, I’ve never seen that response from the reviewers for a reputable publisher, largely because reviewers often go to heroic lengths to ensure that the publisher believes they rigorously reviewed the manuscript. To prove this, they will find ways to list some specific problem, however minor, that must be fixed.

Reviewers almost always have the final say — if your manuscript represents a hill they’re willing to die on in defense of some point of dogma. Because peer review is unpaid work, experts can easily refuse a request to review a future manuscript if a publisher irritates them — and ignoring their recommendation can be very irritating to a reviewer, especially one with an agenda. If enough authors stop agreeing to work with a specific publisher, that publisher will soon find themselves in the unfortunate situation of having no more peer reviewers, and thus, will no longer be able to refer to themselves as a peer-reviewed publication. They might even (horror!) have to pay experts to review their future publications.

Thus, publishers are reluctant to overrule a reviewer out of fear the reviewer won’t work with them again in the future, and may even warn their friends and colleagues to do the same. Sometimes you just have to accept a publisher’s verdict and move on. Fortunately, there are a great many academic publishers.

Most reviewers and most publishers are reasonable people who are willing to listen to an author’s responses and counterarguments. Although academic authors who have survived their thesis defenses tend to acquire a certain measure of skill at explaining and justifying their subject and responding firmly to critiques, for some reason, they completely lose that skill when it’s time to respond to a publisher’s review. Editors can be remarkably valuable allies when it comes time to respond to review comments, which is why I always offer to help my authors write their responses.

There are several things to keep in mind.

· Authors take their writing seriously, and are often offended or even enraged by critical comments. Although this is perfectly understandable, it’s unprofitable, because expressing those emotions to a reviewer is like throwing catnip to a cat: It only encourages a strong response. Help the author take a step back and seek ways to treat criticism as a means of improving their manuscript rather than a personal attack.

· Similarly, it’s unprofitable to argue with a reviewer, particularly if that argument can be seen as an attack. Instead, help the author find ways to acknowledge the reviewer’s point, explain what they were hoping to achieve, find a way to incorporate that point in their revision, and provide a persuasive response that satisfies both the reviewer’s objection and the author’s goal.

· Where possible, help the author find ways to implement each suggestion. The more suggestions they accept, the more willing a reviewer will be to listen to counterarguments for other points. For example, if a reviewer asks the author to cite five additional references, ensure that they have cited those five references. If the reviewer asks them to cite a specific journal paper (often one written by the reviewer), ensure that they have cited that paper. It costs the author nothing, particularly if the reviewer is correct that the references are relevant and worthy of citation.

· Never cave in on important points! If the reviewer is simply wrong, and won’t accept any argument to the contrary, move on and find somewhere else to publish. There are many, many publishers. If the manuscript has merit, some publisher will eventually see its value.

· Always thank the reviewers politely at the end of the response letter, even if you disagree with them. One standard wording that has worked well for me and that I encourage you to copy and modify to meet your needs: “Thanks for your efforts to improve my manuscript. I hope that my responses and the resulting changes will be satisfactory, but I’ll be happy to work with you to resolve any remaining issues.” This acknowledges the reviewer’s effort, and attempts to shift the review process from confrontational to collaborative.

· Only thank each reviewer once, at the end of the responses, other than for particularly important comments. If you repeatedly thank a reviewer for insulting your intelligence, critiquing your upbringing and moral character, and savaging your writing style, thanking them for each body blow quickly becomes seen as sarcasm, and that tends to make the reviewer more critical.

A final comment

I’ve been helping authors for more than 30 years by using these techniques, and as a result, have facilitated the publication of more than 6,000 journal manuscripts and scientific monographs, so it’s clear that these techniques work. Interestingly, they’ve also helped me greatly when I served as a peer-reviewer or as a journal’s review coordinator. The same approaches help me put my head in the right space to work with both authors and reviewers to achieve consensus and to change the review process from confrontational to a mutually supportive way to improve the quality of an author’s contribution to the literature of a field.

Reference

Hart, G. 2021. Creating truly effective outlines. NAIWE website (https://naiwe.com/).

Geoff Hart (he/him) works as a scientific editor, specializing in helping scientists who have English as their second language publish their research. He also writes fiction in his spare time, and has sold 33 stories so far. Visit him online at www.geoff-hart.com.

On the Basics: How networking can enhance success for an editing business

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter, Owner

An American Editor

A lot goes into launching a successful editing business, and networking can be one factor in that success. I’ll be talking about the practical aspects of such a venture in a May webinar for the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors (NAIWE). This post is about networking from an editing perspective and is adapted from a post I wrote for my NAIWE blog that focuses on writing and networking.

Editors might not think of networking as an element of their new businesses, but that could mean losing out on valuable ways to learn about craft and business, and to develop connections that could not only improve those aspects of what they want to do, but also lead to a greater likelihood of finding — or being found by — clients. It can also help editors help their clients.

All editors probably share a common goal: for our clients’ words, thoughts and perspectives to find audiences and outlets. Regardless of their stage of creativity, visibility or success, every writer wants — even needs — to be seen and heard. For the editor, helping a writer client make that first sale or be published in that first outlet can be almost as exciting as it is for the writer, and networking is one way to help them get there.

Whether your client is writing a novel or a press release, a poem or a white paper, a play or a case study, a how-to book or a personal blog post, an academic article or a memoir, and whether your client is an individual, company, nonprofit organization, university, government agency or publication, you want what they write to be seen and appreciated. Beyond being seen, we also want everyone who sees our clients’ writing to understand it, respond to it positively by publishing reviews or acting on it somehow, recommend it to others, and read or buy the next piece we write. Skilled editing and networking can help that happen.

Where networking comes into play is in finding and sharing resources for learning to edit better by joining professional groups and taking classes; identifying colleagues to learn from, advise and share opportunities or referrals with; avoiding scams and bad clients; getting paid; and related details of an editing business or the editing life.

Through networking, in essence, you can meet colleagues who will provide advice, insights and resources, and who might refer you to editing projects and clients. And you can be one of those helpful, respected colleagues.

It’s important to remember, by the way, that networking is a two-way process. In fact, that might be the most important aspect of networking. An editor needs to create a net of contacts and colleagues who can help them do their work better and enhance their likelihood of finding clients. One of the best ways to do that is to be a useful strand in the nets of colleagues.  

And don’t let being new to editing or networking make you feel that you can’t contribute to the networking process. You can! Don’t forget the old saying that there are no dumb questions. You might ask the one thing about grammar, usage, structure, client relations, payment, etc., that dozens of other editors have been wondering about, but didn’t dare bring up because they were afraid of looking foolish. By raising that question and eliciting responses, you help everyone learn something.

If you can’t answers colleagues’ questions yet, look for resources you can share — books, courses, blogs, organizations, etc., that you have found useful or have seen in your real-world and online activity. Keep in mind that we all had to start somewhere, first by actually editing something, next by seeing it get published (and paid for), and then by becoming visible and active in some corner of the editing world.

Even extroverts like me had to learn the ropes of networking effectively; it isn’t just a matter of paying dues and using the resources of an association to enhance our own work. If you ask questions and get helpful answers, look for ways to provide answers to other people’s questions. If you join a group, whether an online community or a formal association, be active and visible, not just what I call a checkbook member: someone who joins and then sits back silently, contributes nothing and waits for the group to hand them success.

In the continuing pandemic era, we can’t do much networking in person, so the introverts among us don’t have to worry as much about fitting in at events as in the past (and, we hope, the future). Nowadays, you can use the virtual world to your networking advantage by “lurking” in online communities and professional associations for a while, to take the temperature of the environment and decide whether it will be helpful, and you’ll be comfortable, before you spend money on a membership or speak up with your questions and suggestions. Oh, and as the owner of an editing business, anything you do invest in joining an organization is a tax deduction!

Learn and profit from networking, and try to give as much as you take. Your reputation will blossom as a result, along with your editing business and efforts.

How has networking helped you launch and build an editing business? Have you overcome a fear of interacting with colleagues through networking?

Ruth E. Thaler-Carter is a widely published freelance writer/editor and the creator of Communication Central’s annual Be a Better Freelancer® conference, now co-hosted by NAIWE and the An American Editor blog. Through her active participation in a variety of professional associations, she is often called the Queen of Networking, and she’s the Networking member of the NAIWE Board of Experts.