Pick a Genre. Any Genre.

I've worked on books ranging from Christian nonfiction to speculative fiction to children’s books. I've worked with writers who’ve already got multiple books published as well as those who don’t have a great grasp of writing mechanics yet but can still write things that make me sit back in my chair. On paper, those projects don’t have a lot in common. Different genres, different audiences, different everything.

Here's the thing nobody tells you about picking an editor: Genre match is only part of the fit.

Not My Wheelhouse? Good.

I'm not looking for "someone writing in my wheelhouse." I don't have a wheelhouse, genre-wise. I've read something like 10,000 books across almost every category there is. I’ve seen things. And I survived. What I'm actually looking for is simpler and harder to fake: How do you take feedback?

There's a version of a client who wants a professional stamp of approval. They want to hear the book is good, or close to good, or good enough, or better yet: GREAT BOOK! 10/10, WOULD RECOMMEND! Any note that complicates that gets deflected, argued with, or just ignored. That client isn't actually asking me to read their book. They're asking me to agree with them. I can't always do that, and I won't fake it. It's not what I'm for.

Dream Client, Meet Reality

One of the writers I really enjoy working with is nowhere close to a polished writer yet. Mechanically, there's a lot of work to do. But she is unbelievably eager to learn. She wants to understand why a scene works, not just be told to fix it, and she often comes back with the fix already more than halfway figured out on her own. Watching someone build real craft in real time, chapter after chapter, is honestly the best part of this job. It's why I love it.

Compare that to a technically stronger writer who doesn't want to hear anything that complicates their draft. I'd rather work with the first one every time.

Talent's Overrated

It's not about talent. I want to say that again, because it surprises people: It's not about talent. Drop the pitchfork and back away slowly while I explain.

Talent is a snapshot. It tells you where someone is right now. Curiosity tells you where they're headed.

A curious writer treats a note as a question worth sitting with—"huh, why doesn't this work?"—instead of a verdict to accept or reject. My comments are not the Ten Commandments. (For one thing, there will be more than ten.) But if you think it through and disagree, great. I just ask that you wrestle with it. That's the difference between someone who improves with every book and someone whose first draft is basically as good as it's ever going to get. They’ve stopped being willing to find out what could make it better.

That's really what I'm doing when I edit, too. If something doesn't work, I want to know why. There is a reason. Maybe the character's motivation isn't on the page. Maybe the argument skipped a step. Maybe the author knows something the reader doesn't know yet but needs to. Whatever it is, I want to keep pulling at the thread until we find it. The best writers I've worked with are willing to pull with me. They're more interested in finding the answer than defending the draft.

I'm not saying talent doesn't matter. Obviously it does. Some manuscripts start further along than others, and that's real. But talent without curiosity plateaus. Curiosity without much natural talent yet just ... keeps going. And I'd rather work with someone still climbing than someone who's already decided they've arrived.

Bring It On

Bring me whatever you're writing. Memoir, sci-fi, a business book, a novel about a topic I'd normally never pick up off a shelf. Surprise me! What I care about is whether you're willing to ask "why" about your own work as many times as it takes to actually find the answer, because that's where the real work happens. And we're both gonna have to do it.