Roundup of my best "Ask an Editor" advice
Reader breaks, Substack intros and building runways...
In the last 16 years as an editor, I've likely edited your work. Well, sort of.
Whether essays, manuscripts, PhD theses, medical research, or full-length books, I've wielded my editor's pen to help a spectrum of writing, many just like yours. And along the way, some universal wisdom has emerged about what makes lasting, powerful writing.
After a few nuggets of advice, there is a paywall. If you’d like to read the whole piece (and get 1:1 feedback from me on your work alongside other writers in our twice-monthly Ask an Editor threads), you’ll need to upgrade your subscription.
Sometimes tighter writing is just writing struggling to breathe
There’s a lot of debate about whether shorter or longer writing is “best.” I think the best writing has a certain flow. I’ve seen short, choppy, shifty writing that creates an irresistible ride—like taking a corner at 60mph in a sports car without breaking a sweat. Then there’s writing that goes longer, finds its way around winding, slow and meaningful details. It’s important to practice a little bit with both while also acknowledging that how you sound is what readers need to hear. And sometimes over-editing doesn’t give readers much to enjoy—sometimes it just squeezes all the air and personality out of writing.
Edit (and keep editing) for “first-paragraph importance”
In all writing, how you start the story is a make-or-break moment. Some writing grows with intrigue. Some writing throws you right into the deep end and keeps you guessing the whole way. But sometimes writing on Substack tends to sound like a conversation the writer doesn’t want to be having at all. Using phrases like, “I love summertime” or “What a great week I’ve had” might get a pass from readers if you’re a celebrity, but not if you’re like the rest of us.
Effective, attention-grabbing openers can look different between genres, but often they include something I don’t see coming but they all don’t take a long time for the reader to be given a reason to care. Here’s an example of a great opening:
I am old now and have not much to fear from the anger of gods. I have no husband nor child, nor hardly a friend, through whom they can hurt me. My body, this lean carrion that still has to be washed and fed and have clothes hung about it daily with so many changes, they may kill as soon as they please. The succession is provided for. My crown passes to my nephew.
Till They Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis
(The gulf between me and C.S. Lewis is vast. However. This book will knock your socks off. It's his first and only published work of fiction, and when I finished reading it, I was ANGRY that he didn't live long enough to write more. It is not Christian-y AT ALL. It is refreshing and devastatingly well-written.)
A lot of the advice in this piece today is going to focus on these all-important “First Paragraphs”—which is also our Ask an Editor theme through the end of the year. You can read all four great opening-line examples in the comments of this Ask an Editor. It does require an upgrade to cull through the archives (and to get feedback on your first paragraph), and I’d love to see what you can surprise me with!
Build a runway for abstraction
At the beginning of pieces, we want to give readers something they can connect with right away. And from there, we can build in abstract reflections in methodical and intentional ways. This is important because when we’re too abstract, a storyteller’s engine tends to struggle. Always err on the side of giving readers specifics that relate to their experience first, and then ask them to stretch a bit into abstract concepts.