Writing Program
You could easily make a whole class about the different writing programs on the market, which demographics prefer them, and how to work in them. Multiple classes, even. I feel like every day, I hear about some new program people are writing in (and expect their editors to know). I’ll be honest: I like Microsoft Word. I will always ask for manuscripts in Word.

Why? Macros. Macros are lovely time-saving devices in Word that seem complex at first but are SO WORTH IT. I’ll talk more about them in another blog.

I’ve also worked in Google Docs, Adobe Reader, Pages, and Fictionary. I’m certainly not opposed to learning new programs, but time spent learning Scrivener, Dabble, Atticus, Final Draft, or whatever expands both the timeline and the budget.

It’s pretty rare nowadays for anyone to ask for offline editing, but it does happen. One publisher mailed me their proofreading test, both to check my skills and to see if I understood the editing symbols. Happily, I passed, but I haven’t been asked to do anything else with paper and pen.

Style Guide
Many freelance editors work with a variety of clients but generally within a single genre. I know someone who only works on medical texts, meaning he’s probably got the American Medical Association (AMA) style guide memorized.

For every genre, there is a style guide. It lays out standard practices for commas, capitalization, hyphenation, formatting, document design, citations, etc. They exist to maintain consistency. They’re often very long and quite complex. Most American fiction writers subscribe to The Chicago Manual of Style (CMOS).

Depending on what program you’re using, there is additional software like PerfectIt that functions like a spellcheck but for style guides.

Dictionary
Why would anyone have a dictionary when there’s a perfectly good spellcheck? Or AI-powered proofreading software? Well, unlike generative AI (which makes things through plagiarism), AI-powered proofreading like spellcheck is very useful…except when it’s not.

Absolutely use it. An editor would be a fool not to. But you also need to check things yourself, like proper nouns, fictional words, homonyms, words with multiple spellings, slang, foreign words, British vs. American English, etc.

Luckily, there are more dictionaries than you can shake a stick at, and many of them double as thesauri, which is good because one thing AI (generative and nongenerative) consistently fails at is understanding connotations. That’s where Merriam-Webster and the Oxford English Dictionary come in.

Usage Guide
This is a little tricky to explain, but style guides discuss the aesthetics of words, whereas usage guides detail the application of words. Usage guides tell you how words/phrases are used, if modern usage differs from historical usage, how commonly used the word is, situations in which the word is appropriate (or not), whether the word is offensive to a certain group, etc.

Common entries include Fowler’s Dictionary of Modern English Usage, Garner’s Modern English Usage, and The McGraw-Hill Desk Reference for Editors, Writers, and Proofreaders.

Grammar Guide
Yes, this is a separate category from usage and style guides. No, I’m not yanking your chain. Grammar guides look at syntax (in English, we need sentences to go subject -> verb -> object) and construction (putting sentences together coherently). I’m not talking about basic punctuation here; this isn’t something that software can do.

Dreyer’s English is a great example of a grammar guide that breaks things down into probably more detail than you’ll ever need (but you never know!).

If you've ever picked up a romance novel expecting swooning confessions and instead got a murder mystery halfway through, you’ve experienced a genre convention being bent—or possibly shattered. Literary genres come with expectations. When you read a horror story, you anticipate chills and maybe some blood. When you grab a fantasy book, you expect magic, maybe a dragon or two, and an epic quest. These are genre conventions—those familiar elements that tell us, “Yep, you’re in a sci-fi novel now.”

But here’s the thing: while genre conventions help readers know what they’re getting into, they’re not set in stone. Some of the most memorable and exciting stories come from authors who know when (and how) to break the rules.

Parallelism, (parallel structure or parallel construction), is a grammatical concept that enhances clarity and rhythm in writing. At its core, parallelism means using the same pattern of words to show that two or more ideas have the same level of importance. This principle helps writers maintain consistency and balance in their sentences.

One of the biggest changes a writer can make during a self-edit is to fix parallelism mistakes. Unfortunately, grammar/spellcheckers don't always point out this type of issue, so you'll have to be on the lookout!

Oh, commas. Love them or hate them, they’re everywhere. You could write without ever using one, but it would be a serious challenge that’s usually reserved for very basic reading levels. So, if we have to live in a world with commas, why not learn when to use them?

One of the most important questions I’ve encountered from emerging authors is: “How do I know if my book is ready for an editor?” It’s not a matter of hitting a specific word count or having x number of beta readers review it.

One of the most common dilemmas of any writer involves the word “said.” Many new writers try to avoid it at all costs, believing that any speaking verb is better than the dull “said.” While it would be dull indeed for every character to say everything, you can go too far the other way and end up with exchanges like the following example.

“How did this happen?” asked Joe.

“I couldn’t see what I was doing!” exclaimed Beth.

“Is it really so hard to read the instructions?” queried Joe.

“Yeah! They’re not in Braille, dummy!” hollered Beth.

Obviously, there are plenty of ways to liven up this conversation or make it easier to read, but the first thing that jumps out is this (fictional) writer’s desperate need to avoid “said.” “Said” is actually such a common speech tag that most readers’ brains don’t register it. If you pepper in non-“said” words judiciously, it’ll spice things up without getting silly.

Less Is More
You can’t use “said” constantly, but if you switch it up too often your writing style can be distracting. What’re you supposed to do? Try this

“How did this happen?” asked Joe.

“I couldn’t see what I was doing!” exclaimed Beth.

“Is it really so hard to read the instructions?”

“Yeah! They’re not in Braille, dummy!”

When two characters chat, you don’t have to tag every line. Readers of most ages would be able to follow that conversation and know that each new line is a response to the previous one (and therefore spoken by the other person). This approach can get more confusing if there are more than two people speaking, but it’s still very handy.

Action Beats
Something else to remember is the importance of action beats or pauses in dialogue. These beats can be a character performing an action or interacting with their environment. Without action beats, your characters can feel less grounded in reality, like they’ve ascended into another realm during the conversation. In comic strips, they call it talking heads.

Even if your characters are floating in a featureless void in a scene, people still move. They scratch their noses, flip their hair, rub their rings, check their watches, and otherwise fidget. You can also use action beats to describe facial expressions, narrate inner monologue, or relate observations.

Watch how adding action beats either instead of or in addition to speech tags grounds this scene in the story.

“How did this happen?” Joe coughed as the remainder of the smoke wafted out the window.

“I couldn’t see what I was doing!” exclaimed Beth, fumbling to take off her now-unnecessary oven mitts.

“Is it really so hard to read the instructions?” For God’s sake, they were right there.

“Yeah! They’re not in Braille, dummy!” Joe stared at Beth’s dark glasses, as familiar as his hands, and wondered how he’d ever forgotten.
 
Not a Speech Tag
This may sound obvious, but a verb needs to make noise in order to be a speech tag. Plenty of writers, regardless of experience, have a tendency to use certain words as speech tags that make no sense. One example is the word “smiled.” As in

“Sure thing,” she smiled.

The way that sentence is punctuated implies NOT that she said something while smiling (possible) but that the act of smiling emitted physical sound (impossible). “Shrugged” is another one I see a lot. Shrugging doesn’t inherently make noise so it can’t be a speech tag. The silent verbs you can use confidently are things like “mouthed,” “mimed,” “signed,” or “gestured.”

Sometimes, authors pick words that technically convey a sound, but may be impractical for that particular dialogue. Say you have a character giving a long, drawn out explanation of something. If you use the speech tag “exhaled,” that wouldn’t make any sense. People only exhale for so long and multi-line dialogue would take longer to say.

The point of view (POV) is a critical element in storytelling, determining the lens through which readers experience the narrative. Whether in fiction or non-fiction, POV influences how a story unfolds, how characters are developed, and how themes are conveyed. Writers can choose from several types of perspectives, each with its own set of advantages and disadvantages. Understanding the strengths and limitations of different points of view is essential for writers, as it can shape the tone and depth of their stories. Here, we’ll explore the pros and cons of different points of view and examine which literary genres each POV is most common in.

First-Person

In the first-person POV, the story is told from the perspective of one character using “I” or “we.” This allows readers to get an intimate look into the narrator’s thoughts, feelings, and perceptions.

Pros:
1. Intimacy and Personal Connection: First-person allows readers to connect deeply with the narrator. By sharing their internal thoughts and emotions, the narrator becomes a vessel through which readers can experience the world.
2. Subjective Experience: The first-person perspective offers a unique lens on the story, providing a more personal and sometimes unreliable take on events, which can add intrigue or mystery to the narrative.
3. Voice-Driven: This POV gives writers the opportunity to craft a distinctive voice for the narrator, adding richness and authenticity to the storytelling.

Cons:
1. Limited Scope: The biggest limitation of first-person POV is that it only presents one character’s view of the world, restricting the reader’s understanding of other characters and events. This can make it difficult to explore multiple perspectives or fully develop a broad narrative.
2. Unreliable Narrator: While an unreliable narrator can create compelling twists, it can also lead to confusion or frustration if not handled effectively.

Genres: First-person is particularly common in literary fiction, young adult (YA), and memoirs, where emotional depth and character introspection are central.

Second-Person

The second-person POV is less common, where the narrator directly addresses the reader using “you.” This makes the reader an active participant in the story, as though they are the protagonist.

Pros:
1. Engagement and Immersion: Second-person creates a unique, immersive experience. By directly addressing the reader, it blurs the line between reality and fiction, drawing the reader into the world of the story.
2. Unconventional Appeal: Because second-person is rare, it can captivate readers with its novelty, making the story feel fresh.

Cons:
1. Potential Alienation: The second-person POV can be jarring or uncomfortable for some readers, who may not appreciate being directly included in the narrative.
2. Limited Usefulness: Second-person is difficult to sustain for long stretches, as the constant “you” can feel repetitive or forced in longer narratives.

Genres: The second-person POV is most often seen in experimental fiction, interactive fiction, and choose-your-own-adventure (CYOA) books.

Third-Person Limited

Third-person limited follows a single character’s experiences but uses “he,” “she,” or “they” instead of “I.” The narrator knows only the thoughts and feelings of the protagonist.

Pros:
1. Balanced Perspective: Third-person limited allows for a more flexible and expansive narrative than first-person, as the writer can explore multiple characters but still maintain focus on one.
2. Character Depth: This POV allows for deep exploration of the main character’s internal world without the constraints of first-person, giving more room for complex emotions and motivations.
3. Objectivity with Empathy: The third-person limited POV lets the writer introduce some objectivity, while still creating a strong emotional connection with the protagonist.

Cons:
1. Less Intimacy: While third-person limited offers deep insight into a character’s mind, it lacks the same personal connection that first-person provides.
2. Possible Confusion: Switching between characters or perspectives in third-person limited can sometimes confuse readers if not done skillfully.

Genres: Third-person limited is common in fantasy, science fiction, and historical fiction, where multiple characters and complex worldbuilding are often involved.

Third-Person Omniscient

In this POV, the narrator knows everything about the story, including characters' thoughts, backgrounds, and even future events. It is a god-like perspective that can shift between characters and locations freely.

Pros:
1. Comprehensive View: The omniscient POV offers a panoramic view of the narrative, providing insights into all characters and events, making it ideal for stories with a large cast or sweeping storylines.
2. Narrative Flexibility: The narrator can offer commentary, explain backstories, and even inject humor, enhancing the richness of the narrative.

Cons:
1. Overwhelming Information: The abundance of knowledge in an omniscient narrative can overwhelm the reader and reduce the emotional focus on individual characters.
2. Detachment: While omniscient POV offers breadth, it can also create a sense of distance, as it may be harder for readers to emotionally connect with a single character.

Genres: Third-person omniscient is commonly found in classical literature, epic novels, and historical fiction, where the broad scope of the narrative demands a wide-reaching perspective.

Conclusion

The choice of point of view is integral to a story’s tone, pacing, and reader engagement. While first-person offers intimacy and a deep connection with a protagonist, third-person provides more flexibility and a broader scope. Second-person is an experimental POV that can provide a unique narrative, though it may not resonate with all readers. Each perspective comes with its own set of strengths and challenges, and the decision of which to use often depends on the writer’s goals and the genre of the work. Whether in literary fiction, YA, or historical epics, the POV chosen will shape the way readers interact with the story and its characters.

Point of View is one of the trickiest aspects of writing, even for professionals. Deciding who should tell the story (or chapter/scene) can radically change your work. We’ll talk more about the different perspectives and their pros and cons in another post. Today, I want to focus on what can happen after you’ve chosen your POV and accidentally violated it. Editors call it head hopping, and it is a serious bugbear.

I’ve seen a lot of questions asking about the difference between a line editor and a copyeditor. Although I’m oversimplifying a bit, a line editor will actually rewrite your content whereas a copyeditor typically will not. There are other areas where a copyeditor excels.

Copyeditors ensure consistency with the house or preferred style guide, dictionary, and internal consistency (or factual, in nonfiction works). They go beyond a proofreader by looking at things that, while not grammatically wrong, may confuse or annoy the reader.

One popular example is the word "gray" or "grey." Most dictionaries and style guides equally recognize both spellings. Unless the publisher specifies, it'll be up to the author how it's spelled. But, sometimes authors can be inconsistent.

Many copyeditors have a checklist of things to look out for beyond spelling and punctuation conventions. Of course, every editor has their own list, and lists may differ per author, publishing house, or project, but here are a few examples you’re likely to see on every list.

• Inappropriate verb tense shifts
  • This is most common when the writer is working in the present tense. We’re used to stories being told in the past tense so it’s easy to slip up.
• Multiple sentences in a row starting with the same word
• Sentences lacking parallelism
  • “I like to pet my cats and watching Law & Order.” vs “I like to pet my cats and watch Law & Order.”
• Overuse of adverbs modifying weak verbs
  • Instead of “She spoke quietly” or “He walked very quietly” a copyeditor may suggest “She whispered” or “He crept”. For cases like “She whispered quietly” see the bullet on textual redundancy.
• Inappropriate use of the word “suddenly”
  • It’s tempting for newer authors to rely on “suddenly” to startle or surprise the reader, but much more effective to get right into the action.
• Overuse of expletive sentences
  • Sentences that start with “There is” or “There are”
• Overuse or inappropriate use of the passive voice
  • This is a complex and highly subjective matter. I want to go on record as saying that the passive voice doesn't bother me nearly as much as many copyeditors. In academia, or when the focus of the sentence shouldn’t be on the subject, the passive voice is often preferred.
• Using quotation marks for emphasis
  • I’m not sure when people started doing this or why, but I find it an especially baffling quirk.
• Acronyms without clarification (unless they have been generally accepted as words or are widely known)
• Jargon (unless appropriate for the audience level or purposefully used for characterization)
• Overly long sentences or paragraphs
• Textual redundancy
  • “She nodded her head” would become “She nodded” because, under normal circumstances, you can’t nod anything other than your head.
• Awkward text

Everyone’s heard those three ubiquitous words before. It seems like English teachers can’t help themselves. Nor should they! It’s great advice, no matter what kind of story you’re writing. But just saying “Show, don’t tell” doesn’t always explain the problem, leaving writers thinking they’re showing when they’re still telling.

Instead of listing endless examples, let’s look at a few specific problems you’re trying to avoid in your writing. Knowing why you don’t want to tell makes the adage much easier to extrapolate from.

Repetition
One of the most common issues is authors who are showing and telling. For example, a character who desperately tries to explain her situation to the police suddenly stamps her foot and screams in a scene. The author doesn’t need to clarify that she’s frustrated; we get it. So the line:

She stamped her foot and screamed in frustration at the idiocy surrounding her.

isn’t necessary. We’ve just read a back-and-forth with her becoming increasingly frustrated (which we inferred through the dialogue). The action beat of stamping her foot and screaming doesn’t need to explain why. Well-written dialogue plus behaviors everyone can relate to are enough to convey the emotion. That kind of repetition isn’t wrong per se, but it clutters the text and demonstrates the author’s lack of confidence in their writing.

Narrative Distance
Another reason to focus on showing is that telling instills a greater narrative distance between the reader and the character(s). Plenty of other things affect narrative distance, such as point of view and tense. And again, this isn’t always a bad thing, but for many genres, it’s better to get the audience as close to the action as possible.

Looking at the line I used above again, the reader is somewhat removed from the situation. By explicitly noting that she’s frustrated, the author has inserted a narrator’s observations (even if the narrator isn’t a character and is omniscient). Consider the lines below.

She stamped her foot and screamed. The sheer idiocy was unbelievable!

There’s nothing separating the audience from the events described. You know what she’s doing and what she’s thinking without ever needing to spell out her emotions. The proceeding dialogue (hopefully) clearly showed this frantic woman explaining her situation over and over to an officer who, for whatever reason, wasn’t paying much attention. In a tense scene, you want to keep things moving.

Head Hopping
One of the biggest mistakes writers make from telling instead of showing is called head hopping. It’s most common in third-person limited POVs and happens when the reader is given direct insight into a character’s motivations or thoughts when they shouldn’t be.

Continuing my example, let’s say that we see the line in a book where the detective is the protagonist and his thoughts are the only ones shared with the reader.

She stamped her foot and screamed in frustration at the idiocy surrounding her. Detective Tanner politely averted his eyes, not wanting to make things worse.

While it’s possible that the detective figured out she was frustrated and assigned that emotion to her actions, when the narrator explicitly states it is because of her perception of idiocy, they’ve hopped into the woman’s head. Detective Tanner has no way of knowing for sure where her frustrations lie. The detective isn’t thinking here; the narrator is telling us.

Have Some Faith
While it’s usually best to give your writing (and your audience) a little credit, authors occasionally still want to show and tell. One way to do this is by having the protagonist do the telling.

She stamped her foot and screamed. Detective Tanner politely averted his eyes from the hysterics, not wanting to contribute to her obvious frustration.

Here, we see the action and the detective’s assumptions: that she’s acting out of frustration and it's unwarranted. This neatly avoids hopping into the woman’s head while also giving us some characterization of Detective Tanner. Like all tricks, you don't want to overuse it. No one wants to constantly have the protagonist weighing in like this on every action, but it is effective in moderation.