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You found someone online whose content speaks to you. She gets it. She talks about writing the way you think about it, and you immediately feel like she understands the struggle. So you think: I want to work with her. Before you reach out, do a little digging. Look at a few other coaches and editors. Compare what they offer. See who else might be a fit. This relationship can go on for months, sometimes longer, and if it's not the right match, you'll feel it early and wish you'd looked a little harder before committing. The First Thing Most Writers SkipMost writers start with reputation. Follower count. A polished website. Those things tell you something, but they don't tell you what you actually need to know: does this person work with writers like you, at the stage you're at, writing the kind of story you're writing? Jennie Nash, founder of Author Accelerator, puts it plainly: find someone who is focused specifically on what you are writing. Genre matters. Story type matters. The stage of the process matters. A coach who specializes in memoir may be wonderful at what she does and still be the wrong person for your fantasy novel. You can browse certified coaches, including me, in the Author Accelerator directory and filter by what fits your project. The other thing writers skip is coaching style. Some coaches and editors lead with encouragement and build from there. Others come in firm from day one. Neither is wrong, but the match has to fit you. If you need patience and a steady hand and you hire someone who leads with tough love, you may shut down before the work even starts. What to Look for in a Qualified Coach or EditorCredentials are one part of the picture. A certified book coach has been trained and evaluated before she earns that credential, which matters in an industry with no licensing requirements. An editor trained through recognized programs or who has worked with publishers brings a different kind of track record. Neither guarantees the right fit, but both are worth considering. Beyond credentials, Jennie Nash points to five qualities to look for when you're evaluating a coach:
After any discovery call, ask yourself one more thing: do you feel more energized about your writing than you did before the conversation? If yes, that's a good sign. What to Consider Before You CommitA discovery call tells you a lot, but it doesn't tell you everything. Here are a few more things to look at before you sign anything. Read the contract. Does the scope of service match what your manuscript actually needs right now? Watch for promises no editor or coach can ethically make: guarantees of publication, agent representation, or bestseller status. Those are red flags. Ask about AI. Does the coach or editor disclose whether and how they use AI in their work? How they answer tells you something about their transparency. Ask for a sample edit. A few annotated paragraphs from your own pages will tell you more about how this person works than an hour of conversation. Look at what testimonials actually say. A handful of specific, detailed testimonials about someone's style, follow-through, and approach is more useful than dozens of generic ones. You can also learn a lot from someone's website, their emails, and how they show up on social media. The small details add up to a picture. What I Look for When a Writer Reaches Out to MeThe most important thing I look for is coachability. I need to know that a writer is open to feedback, willing to do the work, and prepared to make hard changes when the story calls for them. I always respect a writer's vision for her story. What I'm assessing is whether she can hear difficult feedback and keep moving forward. The red flags I watch for: a writer who wants to control every interaction, who focuses mainly on guarantees or payoff, who starts making excuses about her commitment before we've even begun, or who needs more availability than a coaching relationship can realistically offer. When I see those signs, I'd rather be upfront early than take on work I don't believe will serve her. If You've Been Burned BeforeIf a previous editor or coach gave you unhelpful feedback, turned out to be underqualified, or just wasn't the right fit, I understand the hesitation. One bad experience doesn't mean the right person isn't out there. Do your research, book a few discovery calls, and give yourself the chance to find someone who is a better match for where you are now. Ready to Start That Conversation?If you're looking for a fiction book coach or developmental editor who works within your genre and takes your vision seriously, I'd love to hear about your project. Take a look at my fiction book coaching and developmental editing services and let's find out if we're a good fit.
You might also find it useful to read how much a book coach costs before you reach out, or what to expect from a developmental edit if you want to know more about the process before committing.
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You've written the scene. You read it back. Something feels off, but you can't say exactly what. The characters are talking, things are happening, and yet the scene sits there, flat and unconvincing. Most writers try to fix this by rewriting sentences. A stronger verb here, a tighter paragraph there. But the problem is rarely at the sentence level. It's structural. And once you know what a scene actually needs to work, you'll start catching these problems before they happen, not after you've already written three drafts. This is what the eight-sentence scene outline does. It gives you a framework for building scenes that move, that create real conflict, and that leave your reader wanting the next one. Before you adjust a single line of dialogue or cut a paragraph, check whether your scene has what it actually needs to work. Every Scene Needs a Character Who Wants SomethingThe first thing I check when a scene isn't working is whether the characters have a clear goal. Both of them. The protagonist and whoever is pushing against her. When I mentored writers in the Story Grid Writer Mentorship Program, this was one of the problems that kept scenes from working. Sometimes the protagonist had a goal, but it was too vague to create real conflict, something like "she wants to feel better" instead of something she could concretely win or lose, like "she needs her sister to agree to sell the house before the buyer walks away." Sometimes the goal existed at the story level but had nothing to anchor it to this specific scene. And sometimes the protagonist had a goal but spent the scene thinking about it instead of going after it. A goal only drives a scene when the character is actively pursuing it, when every piece of dialogue, every action, every choice is in service of getting what she wants. The moment characters start doing things that have nothing to do with their goal, the scene becomes filler. Both characters need a goal because conflict comes from two desires that can't coexist. The protagonist wants something. The force working against her wants something else. What they each want is mutually exclusive, which means by the end of the scene, someone wins, and someone doesn't. That irresolvable tension is what makes a scene feel alive. Check the StructureOnce the goals are in place, I look at the structure. A scene that works moves through five stages, and when any one of them is missing or muddy, the scene stalls. It starts with an Inciting Incident: the moment something disrupts the protagonist's normal state and sets the conflict in motion. This is usually when another person, an event, or a circumstance forces her out of equilibrium and gives her a concrete goal to pursue. From there, the scene builds through Progressive Complications: the protagonist reacts, the opposing force escalates, and the pressure keeps rising. Each exchange should tighten the problem, not loosen it. Then comes the Turning Point: the moment the protagonist draws her line in the sand. Through action, dialogue, or both, she makes it clear to the antagonist that she won't comply. She's not backing down, and the antagonist now knows it. That's when the antagonist delivers the Crisis: the scene's point of no return. The opposing force sets up a dilemma with two choices, each carrying explicit consequences. The crisis has to be on the page, delivered through action, dialogue, or both, so the reader sees it happen rather than piecing it together from context. The protagonist can't avoid it. She has to choose, and the reader knows exactly what's at stake on either side. There are two types of meaningful dilemmas. A best bad choice forces the protagonist to pick the lesser of two painful options. Irreconcilable goods force her to choose between two things she genuinely values, knowing she can't have both. What makes either one work is the stakes attached to each side, and those stakes are almost always connected to what the protagonist cares most about. The Climax is when she makes her choice through action or dialogue. The reader should see it happen on the page, not infer it from the narrator's summary. And the Resolution shows what changes as a result: how the other character or the world responds, and what new pressure that response creates going forward. The Other Elements That Make or Break a SceneGoals and structure aren't the only things that make or break a scene. When I worked with writers in the Story Grid Writer Mentorship Program, I also saw scenes fail because of head-hopping, where the point of view kept shifting between characters without a clear anchor. Others had what I call talking heads: pages of dialogue with no sense of where the characters were standing, what the room smelled like, what was physically at stake in the space around them. Used well, setting can function as another character in the scene, pulling the reader deeper into the moment. And then there's showing versus telling. A protagonist who "felt afraid" is telling. A protagonist whose hands go still, who picks up her coffee cup and sets it down without drinking, who answers a question with a question she didn't mean to ask, is showing. The reader feels the fear rather than being informed of it. The order I work in is top-down: goals including motivation first, followed by structure, dilemma, and stakes, then point of view, setting, and finally sentence-level choices. Each layer depends on the one above it. Line editing or copy editing a scene that doesn't have a working crisis yet is wasted time. A Scene Outline You Can Use TodayBefore you write your eight sentences, take a moment to write down what your protagonist wants in this scene and what the opposing force wants. Make both goals specific and measurable — something that can be concretely won or lost by the end of the scene. Before you write or revise a scene, write one sentence for each of these eight moments:
If you can write those eight sentences before you draft, you'll know whether the scene has the bones to work. If you're revising, start by confirming that both characters have a clear, specific goal. Then run your existing scene against the eight prompts and see which ones you can't complete. The gaps will show you exactly where the scene is losing momentum. Ready to Practice Scene by Scene?If you want to apply this framework to your own manuscript with consistent support and feedback, the Pitch-Perfect Partnership is where we do that work together. Take a look at my fiction book coaching and developmental editing services to learn more.
You might also find it useful to read how many editing rounds do I need for context on where scene-level work fits in the bigger revision picture, or will editing change my book's voice if you're wondering how craft feedback affects your style. You've heard the terms. Developmental editing. Line editing. Copyediting. Proofreading. Maybe from a critique group, maybe from another writer working through the same questions you are. They sound familiar enough that you assume you already know what each one means, and that's how the confusion spreads: secondhand, and rarely quite accurate. I hear a version of this every month. Writers know the terms exist. They just don't know which one applies to the stage their manuscript is actually in. Untangling that starts with knowing what each pass is actually for, and where it falls in the sequence. Four Passes, Four Different JobsDevelopmental editing looks at the big picture: plot, character arcs, pacing, structure, and how it all works together. This is where I evaluate worldbuilding, character motivation, and whether the story holds up as a whole. It's rarely a single pass. Depending on how many issues a manuscript is carrying, developmental work can take more than one round to get the foundation solid. Line editing comes next, once the structure is settled and the story itself is working. This pass moves down to the sentence level: voice, pacing, flow. It smooths out awkward phrasing, cuts wordiness, addresses repetition, and pays close attention to point-of-view distance between the reader and the protagonist. Copyediting is technical. It fixes grammar, punctuation, and spelling, and keeps names, dates, and timeline details consistent across the whole manuscript using a running style sheet. Proofreading is the final pass, the last check for typos and stray errors that made it through everything before it. Why the Sequence MattersEach pass depends on the one before it holding steady. A line editor working sentence by sentence on a scene that might get cut in developmental revision is polishing something that may not survive. A copyeditor standardizing names and timeline details before the structure is locked is doing work that will need to be redone. The order isn't a formality. It's what keeps a writer from paying for the same kind of attention twice. When a Writer Asks for the Wrong OneI worked with a writer who came to me certain she needed a developmental edit. What she actually needed was to build her story. The elements weren't on the page yet: no real shape to the plot, no clear sense of what her protagonist wanted or what stood in the way. I told her what I saw and recommended a different starting point. She wanted the developmental edit anyway. When a writer isn't open to hearing where her manuscript actually stands, I'd rather step back than take on work I don't believe will help her. I'd want the same honesty if I were the one hiring someone for work that mattered to me. I'd rather stay honest about what a manuscript needs, even when it's not what a writer is hoping to hear. What Happens After I'm DoneMy work is developmental editing and manuscript evaluation. I don't offer line editing, copyediting, or proofreading. When a writer finishes working with me and the manuscript is ready for one of those next passes, I refer her to editors I trust for that specific stage. It matters to me that whoever picks up the work after I do understands craft the way I do, not just mechanics. Which Type of Editing Do You Actually Need?If you're not sure where your manuscript stands, that's the actual question to answer before you hire anyone. Last week's post on whether editing changes your book's voice walks through one piece of that picture. An earlier post maps out the different professional editing phases and how many rounds each one might take. This post is about the types themselves: what each one actually does and who does it.
The fastest way to get an honest answer is to talk to an editor or book coach directly. Set up a call, or find someone who understands the business well enough to point you toward the right fit even if that fit isn't them. Take a look at my services if you'd like to start that conversation with me. If you've ever hesitated before hiring an editor because you weren't sure what would come back, you're not alone. Writers ask me this all the time: will the editor change my voice? It's a fair question, and the answer depends entirely on what kind of editor you're working with and what kind of edit you're getting. What Voice Actually IsVoice is not a stylistic flourish you can add or remove like punctuation. In her line editing course through the Editorial Freelancers Association, Amber Helt draws on a description by Patricia Lee Gauch, a celebrated editor and author, who captured it this way: voice is far more than character or style alone. It is the thumbprint of a writer's whole person, her ideas, her wit, her passions, her rhythms. It is the most personal element a writer brings to the page. That's exactly why the fear of losing it feels so high-stakes. Voice connects with readers on an emotional level. It gives a writer creative ownership of her work. When a writer worries that an editor will erase her voice, she is not being precious about her prose. She is protecting something that is genuinely hers. What a Good Editor Actually DoesA developmental editor's primary focus is structural integrity: plot, character, setting, and whether the story's theme and the protagonist's internal conflict are landing on the page. She identifies what isn't working and suggests ways to strengthen it. Her job is never to rewrite the manuscript in her own voice. The changes belong to the writer, expressed through her own lexicon, her characters' worldview, and a literary style that speaks to her genre and her readers. Line editors work one layer deeper, and their job requires an even sharper attunement to voice. Amber's framework describes voice through three pillars: Lexicon, the specific words a writer reaches for; Perspective, the worldview through which the narrator or characters filter their experience; and Literary Approach, which includes figurative language, mood and tone, and thematic commentary. A skilled line editor identifies the writer's standout strengths in each pillar, spots recurring weaknesses that undermine them, and suggests changes that enhance the writer's unique style. My focus is developmental editing, but I hold the same principles. The goal is always to strengthen the manuscript by protecting the writer's voice. What This Looks Like in PracticeWhen I worked with writers in the Story Grid Writer Mentorship Program, one of the most common things I encouraged was cutting filter words: saw, felt, wondered, noticed. Alongside those, filler words like just, really, so, well, only that were weakening every sentence. Adverbs where a stronger verb would do the job. Paragraphs that had grown so long they were burying the very emotion they were meant to deliver. The changes writers made after those conversations were dramatic. What came back sounded nothing like me. It sounded like each writer doing what she was already capable of, with more intention behind every word. Good editing sounds like you on your best writing day. Where the Line IsI always come back to one question when I'm working on a manuscript: am I identifying a problem that the manuscript has exposed, or am I designing a solution that fits my vision of what this story should be? Every suggested change should be intentional, keeping the writer's voice at the center, and defensible. According to Amber, a good editor can explain her reasoning for any suggestion she makes, rooted in the story already written or the one that's developing. If a suggestion can't be grounded in the story you're already writing, it probably doesn't belong there. And at the end of the day, you're the author. Every change is yours to accept or reject. If an Editor Has Changed Your Voice BeforeIf you've had an experience where an editor overwrote your voice and left you with a manuscript that no longer felt like yours, I get it. I can't speak to other editors' actions, but I understand why it makes sense to be careful the next time around. That said, it doesn't mean every editor will do the same thing. You have two paths. You can decide that the risk isn't worth it and handle your revisions on your own. Or you can stay open to the possibility that there are editors out there who will take your vision seriously, work within it, and help you bring your story to its best form without erasing what makes it yours. Finding the right editor takes research and sometimes a discovery conversation before you commit. Ask how they approach voice. Ask them to walk you through a past revision. Ask what they do when they disagree with a writer's stylistic choice. And ask for a sample edit. Seeing how an editor actually works on your pages is the clearest way to spot any red flags in their feedback style before you commit to a full engagement. What to Look ForA good editor respects your vision for the story and keeps your sentences sounding like you. If you read her suggested changes and think "yes, that's what I was trying to say," you're in the right hands. If you read them and think "that doesn't sound like me at all," trust that instinct. A good editor helps you hear your voice more clearly on the page. Ready to Find the Right Editorial Partner?If you're working on a fiction manuscript and want editorial support that strengthens your story without erasing your voice, I'd love to talk. Take a look at my fiction book coaching and developmental editing services and let's figure out together what your manuscript needs.
You might also find it helpful to read what to expect from a developmental edit or how do editors give feedback before you reach out. You just typed the last sentence of your manuscript. After months, maybe years, of work, it's done. And now you're staring at it wondering: what do I actually do with this? The answer isn't to query agents, hire an editor, or share it with anyone yet. The answer is to put it down and walk away for a while. That's not a delay. It's the beginning of the editing process. Before You Hire Anyone: The Self-Editing RoundsThe editing journey starts with you, before a professional ever sees your pages. Here's the sequence I recommend to every writer who asks. Round 1: Read It as a ReaderAfter giving yourself at least a week away, come back to your manuscript with fresh eyes and read the whole thing through without making changes. Experience it. Feel where it moves and where it drags. Take notes on ideas that spark or things that aren't working, but resist the urge to fix as you go. The goal here is to see the big picture of your story before you zoom in on any one part of it. Round 2: Make Your ChangesGo through your notes and address what genuinely needs attention. Not every note will hold up on a second look, and that's fine. Work through the changes you believe will strengthen the manuscript and leave the rest. Round 3: Get Outside FeedbackThis is the time to bring in critique partners, a writing group, or beta readers, people you trust to give you honest, useful feedback. Ask them specific questions rather than just whether they liked it. What confused them? Where did they lose interest? What did they want more of? If you're not sure what questions to ask, last week's post on manuscript readiness includes a full set of beta reader questions you can use. Take their feedback seriously, but remember that you're the author. Incorporate what resonates and trust your instincts on the rest. Round 4: Build Your As-Is OutlineGo through the entire manuscript scene by scene and write down what each scene is about, why it matters to the protagonist, and what it causes to happen next. This exercise is a version of the Inside Outline, a tool developed by Jennie Nash and used in the Author Accelerator coaching methodology, which I described in last week's post. Applied to an existing draft, it maps the story exactly as it exists on the page and will show you where the logic breaks down, where scenes are missing their purpose, and where the story loses momentum. Once you have that map, use that checklist to assess where the manuscript stands, make as many improvements as you can, and then bring in a professional. These four rounds of self-editing are not optional. They're what separates a writer who gets the most out of a professional edit from one who pays for feedback she could have given herself. The Four Professional Editing PhasesOnce you've done your self-editing work, it's time to bring in a professional. And here's where most writers are surprised: there isn't one editing round. There are four distinct phases, each one focused on a different layer of the manuscript. Developmental editor and book coach Savannah Gilbo describes these four phases clearly in her work, and her framework maps closely to how I approach editorial work with my own clients. Phase 1: The Story Level EditThis is the big picture pass. A developmental editor or book coach looks at plot, character development, worldbuilding, theme, and whether all the foundational elements of the story are working together. Scenes may be moved, added, or cut. Characters may need to be fleshed out. This is the most important phase, and the one that takes the most time. Writers should expect to spend the most effort here. Phase 2: The Scene Level EditThis phase goes one layer deeper, examining how the big picture elements show up inside each individual scene. Does every scene have a purpose? Does it start and end in the right place? Is there enough conflict and tension? Is the point-of-view character's internal experience on the page? This pass looks at the same questions as the Story Level edit, but scene by scene rather than across the whole manuscript. Phase 3: The Page Level EditThis is line editing: a careful pass through the manuscript sentence by sentence to tighten the writing, eliminate filler words and clichés, strengthen word choice, and make sure the language is doing everything it can to put emotion on the page. In my opinion, this is where a lot of the magic happens. The story is already working at this point; this phase is about making it sing. Phase 4: The Sentence Level EditThis is the copy edit and proofread: correcting spelling and grammar, making sure style and voice are consistent throughout, and catching anything that slipped through the earlier passes. At this stage, the manuscript should be as clean and consistent as possible. A Note on the Publishing PathNot every writer needs all four professional phases before they move forward. Savannah Gilbo makes a useful distinction here: if you're querying agents for traditional publishing, you can do so after the Scene Level edit, because if you're picked up by a publisher, they'll put the manuscript through additional rounds of editing before publication. If you're self-publishing, you'll need to see all four phases through yourself before your book is ready for readers. Why Order Matters More Than You ThinkThe most common mistake is finishing a first draft and thinking it's ready. Some writers skip straight to querying. Others skip the developmental edit entirely because they want to get to the line editing, which feels more manageable. But editing out of order is expensive in both time and money. If you line edit before the structure is solid, you'll be polishing sentences that may need to be cut or rewritten entirely in the next round. The phases exist in this order for a reason: you work from the outside in, from the biggest structural questions down to the smallest sentence-level details. The other thing writers sometimes resist is the idea that more than one professional round may be needed. If an editor focuses an entire pass on character development because that's where the manuscript needs the most work, that's not a failure. That's the process doing exactly what it's supposed to do. The manuscripts that come out strongest are usually the ones whose writers were willing to stay in the work longer than they expected. And yes, professional editing is an investment. Depending on the editor's experience and the type of edit, the cost varies significantly. If you want a clearer picture of what to budget, the first post in this series covers how much a book coach costs in detail. What This Means for YouThere is no single answer to how many editing rounds you need. It depends on your manuscript, your skill level, your publishing goals, and how much work each round surfaces. What I can tell you is that the writers who arrive at publication with manuscripts they're proud of are almost always the ones who didn't rush the process. Put in the self-editing rounds. Bring your best work to a professional. Stay open to what the edit reveals. And understand that every round, no matter how many there are, is moving your story closer to the version you always knew it could be. Ready to Take the Next Step?If you're not sure where your manuscript stands or which type of professional support makes sense for where you are, I'd love to help you figure that out. Take a look at my fiction book coaching and developmental editing services and let's find the right next step for your story.
You might also find it helpful to read is my manuscript ready for a developmental edit before you reach out, or what to expect from a developmental edit if you want to know more about how that process works. |
Karla DíazAuthor Accelerator Certified Fiction Book Coach and developmental editor helping unpublished fiction writers develop their stories from first idea to pitch-ready manuscript. Working in English and Spanish. Archives
August 2026
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