by Bethany Jett, @betjett

The two best ways to learn self-editing is to (1) have a great editor pour red ink all over your own work and (2) edit other people’s.

I. First Readers and Editors

My first reader is not my editor. Neither is my second.

Their purpose is to give me a feel from a reader’s perspective if my content is hitting the pain points and gripping their hearts. Am I making them laugh? Are they “mmm-hmmm-ing” at the right spots? I read over shoulders or if they are long-distance, make them sit on the phone or Skype with me so I can be present in real-time. Thanks to Natalie for never showing annoyance when I do this!

The next reader is my editor, and she’s tough, but I can handle it because I’ve just received great feedback and affirmation from my first readers.

If the feedback is negative from them, my editor NEVER sees the draft.

Every “track change” and red line makes me a better writer and a better editor. I learn from her where I’m consistently weak (always too many commas) and where the story needs more grit.

This is how we get better, so bless your editors. They are your partners. Their job is to make your story shine.

II. Wear the Editor Hat

When I had the privilege of working as the Web Content Editor for the best flash fiction magazine company ever, I developed a criteria for which stories were placed into my “yes,” “maybe,” and “never” folders. As I honed the rules I was using for my work with Splickety, it helped sharpen guidelines for my own writing.

If you have an eye (and an inner ear, I call it) for editing, offer to help out your writer friends. Even if you don’t do it as a full business, pouring over someone’s work can help you avoid making the same mistakes in your stories.

I’m truly grateful for the opportunity to work with Splickety for many reasons, but one is  because it raised my standards and I am excited to pass them on!

Self-Editing Tips, Part One

1. Cut Every Non-essential Word

My 12th grade English teacher was a wise woman, and when we were stressed over writing 500-word essays, she said, “One day, writing 500 words at a time will be a piece of cake.”

She was right.

A common thread I see with writers (as well as myself) is to write Well, So, or I think before the start of a sentence. They are almost always completely unnecessary. When writing a paper or narrative, it’s implied that you’re the author. The reader knows that what you’re saying is your opinion, so to begin with “I believe” or “I think” only weakens your argument.

My English teacher pointed this out to us and gave us this tip: write the words Well, So, or I think before the sentence if you absolutely couldn’t write the rest of the sentence without it. “But,” she said, “you have to remember to delete it or I’ll dock points.”

To this day, sometimes I absolutely have to start the sentence with “I think…” because it makes me feel better, but I always go back and delete it. Sometimes I’ll just say it out loud in my mind and then start typing what comes next.

Similarly, to start with “Well,” or “So,” means nothing. “Well, we went to school today” and “We went to school today” are the same sentence. Adding “Well” at the beginning only works if your character’s dialogue tendencies mimic Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.

A few words that can almost always be eliminated:

• just
• so
• very
• anyway

When you “write tight,” you write better. Regardless of whether you classify yourself as a fiction or nonfiction author, writing short pieces, i.e., articles, blog posts, flash fiction, will make you a better writer because every. word. counts.

Almost every 1,000 word story that was submitted could be cut to 700-800 words, so before you submit, see how many words you can delete!

2. Cut Physical Appearances

The most annoying thing in a story, and this is a bit of a personal pet peeve, is when the opening pages describe a character’s looks. MOST of the time, the story isn’t deepened by the heroine’s flowing raven locks or the hero’s tan. His sparkling ocean blue eyes make the main character’s ruby red lips turn upward as she gazes at him with emerald windows into her soul.

BLECH.

Some of my favorite books rarely mention how a character looks, allowing me to imagine them. Their internal characteristics are more important and more deeply define who they are. In Twilight (no groaning, please!), Bella is described as awkward and lanky with mousy brown hair. She’s unremarkable and clumsy and that allows us to find her endearing (or annoying depending on your take).

In this case, however, Edward’s description is crucial to the storyline, since his pale skin and eyes that change from amber to black are indicators that something isn’t right.

The bottom line, unless you’re writing a super-duper-romance-y love novel, no one cares that the character has dimples you could swim in. *drops mic*

Another tip: don’t let the character describe herself while looking in the mirror. I started an Amish novel and within the first two pages, the heroine, who was outside by the way, somehow found a mirror to gaze at her reflection before her love interest rode down the road towards her.

Really?

Not only was it a terrible way to let us “see” her, but it went against my readerly expectation of an Amish heroine. If it hadn’t been on my Kindle, I would have thrown the book across the room. Because that’s the adult thing to do.

3. Create Possessives

When writing flash fiction, the goal is to be succinct and short. One of the edits I consistently made was switching descriptors, using the words “of the” or “on the” as an indicator. For example:

I patted the dog on the head. = 7 words

An even better version of that would be:

I patted the dog’s head. = 5 words

And yet, an even better version, although the word count increases is:

The puppy’s fur felt like silk. = 6 words

The last sentence not only describes the dog better, but gives us a sensory image that is the result of a touch. It’s inferred that someone touched the dog because it was described how it felt.

Another way to strengthen writing is to put the adjectives in the front of the descriptor.

In #1 of this list, I had originally written “My English teacher in high school…” After I looked it over, I changed it to “My 12th grade English teacher.” It’s more clear, which brings us to the next point.

4. Specificity = Clarity

As we saw in the previous example, using general words is boring. Dog can mean anything.

Is it a mutt? Great Dane? Poodle?

Anytime you can use a more descriptive word, do so. It gives your reader a clearer image of what you want them to see.

Also be mindful of how certain words are perceived. In #3 above, what if I had used the word “mutt” instead of “puppy”?

The mutt’s fur felt like silk.

“The mutt’s fur felt like silk” is a contradiction. A surprise.

Typically, mutts are considered mangy, dirty, abandoned. It’s an inference your reader will probably make automatically. Use it to your advantage! Being specific allows you to take your reader where you want them to go.

[reminder]Stay tuned for next week’s Part Two on Self-Editing Tips, and if you have a great editing tip, let us know. It might end up on the list![/reminder]

Bethany Jett is an award-winning author of The Cinderella Rule, speaker, ghostwriter, and founder of JETTsetter Ink, a consulting and editing company. She has written for numerous publications, created the My Moments Planner, Serious Writer Companion, and is the founder of Serious Writer Academy and the Build Your Brand Program.

Bethany is a military wife and all-boys-mama who is addicted to suspense novels and all things girly. Connect with her at BethanyJett.com, Facebook, and Twitter.