If you inspire them, they’ll get excited, and for every hour you invest in editing them, they’ll spend 12 editing themselves. And they’ll carry you with them in their head. That’s been the case for me with Monique, a writing coach Fenwick sometimes hires. Whenever I’m about to commit something vague, I hear her uncapping a red pen, I panic, and I clarify myself.
You have four types of edits at your disposal
This may sound remedial, but it’s worth considering the types of edits you can make. I find each is a tool with a different purpose and you can calibrate the mix for each learner. Your options, roughly in order of frequency:
- Edit: Suggest an edit. Good for speed. (Also precise.)
- Question: Phrase your edit as a question. Good for teaching.
- Explain: Add information or context. Good for building rapport.
- Encourage: Compliment them. Good for inspiring the writer within.
Let’s explore what each does.
If speed and precision matter, I simply edit. This is the default option. It leaves no guesswork. Yet by that same virtue, it demands no brain power, which means the writer won’t learn. Thus, if you want them to grow, and don’t want to have to repeat yourself, leave a certain number of edits as questions.
For example, rather than trim the paragraph on their behalf, ask, “How could this be 30 percent shorter?” Or, highlight a deficiency without supplying the answer: “To me, this reads like an overpromise. How could this sound more balanced and less effusive?”
Aim questions at things you want them to learn or not repeat. Answering those questions takes brainpower, of course, so don’t leave too many, and pair them with more stimulating types of edits like explanations and encouragement.
Explanations help balance out your questions. If you’re the editor who knows all, they’ll appreciate you sharing background, evidence, and statistics via a comment. This is you doing a bit of the work for them, but it demonstrates that you’re in this together while also teaching them what sources to use.
And then there are encouragements. Recall that editor I mentioned who was gleefully condescending about me not knowing en dashes from em dashes? She was a real martinet and never once left a compliment. Her style verged on adversarial. In a strange reversal of fate, years later, she would apply to a role as editor at Fenwick, and I was shocked by the poor quality of her samples. Writing and editing are two different skills, and though she excelled at finding fault, she was unpracticed at producing. I suspect she was the product of similarly mean editors, but there was no way I could put other writers through that.
Which is why I’m so avid about praising writers on what they did well. It’ll open their minds. It’s also the quickest way to help them improve. People may struggle with your comments (which is the point) but if you tell them to repeat something they already know how to do? It yields instant results and nurtures their desire to improve.
Adapt your edits to the writer’s situation and desire
How much of each type of edit should you give? I went back and reviewed past editings to establish rough percentages. My takeaway: Temper your teaching to the writer’s situation and desire to learn. Teach as much as you can, but if they’re in a rush or don’t care, modulate accordingly.
Here are the three modes I use to edit:
1. If they’re rushed or don’t care, be a fixer
It’s a transaction, just do the work. Your questions and explanations will only sour them on your help. Do, however, slip in encouragements.
90% edits
10% questions, explanations, and encouragement
2. If they could be persuaded to care, be a nurturer
If you’ve got a potential learner, go slightly heavier on questions, explanations, and encouragement. Insist they work through 2-3 of the most salient problems on their own, but leave them feeling excited. They should be thinking, “Wow, maybe I’m a better writer than I thought” or “I have potential.”
70% edits
30% questions, explainers, and encouragement
3. If they want to improve and have time, be an instructor
If you’ve got their agreement, spread the edits equally. Double confirm though. Some people will say they do, but they don’t. They already fancy themselves writers and their minds are hardened by identity. The phrase I like to use is, “Before I begin, how extensive of commentary would you like? What’s your interest level in learning?” I let them choose. Then I confirm this is indeed what they want.
In instructor mode, which I use with the Fenwick team, my edits are evenly distributed. I edit things I don’t want them to focus on, question things I do, offer anecdotes and statistics, and leave ample encouragement.
25% edits
25% questions
25% explanations
25% encouragements
Run through your editing flow
Putting all the above together, here’s my typical editing flow:
- Ask what type of edit they want—one, two, or three, and what level of commentary: high/med/low.
- Understand the audience and goal—so you aren’t contravening what readers want.
- Read the entire article first—so you don’t comment on something that’s answered later.
- Leave edits in the proportion desired—fixer, nurturer, or instructor.
Did your writer return for more?
The true test of inspiring edits is that people come back. They should feel you’re on their side and suspect themselves a great writer. If you give them that feeling of promise, you’ll be rewarded with ample opportunities to instruct them in the future. Writing is a process, not an act, and that’s how you’ll improve the writer, not just the writing.
