Writers get the byline. So we naturally get a lot of credit for the writing.

But behind the scenes, a good editor is your wingman or wingwoman, someone who flies behind the wing of the leading aircraft and whose job it is to cover you. Someone there to lend support, guidance, help.

Remember what I said previously about the two kinds of people? Those who think they can write, and those who think they can't? And how very often both are wrong?

A good editor teases the most out of self-anointed writers and nonwriters alike.

The very best writing—like the very best parts of life—is collaborative. It needs an editor.

You should edit our own work. (We talked about this in previous chapters.) You can also use online tools to help flag problems and better your text.

But you should also work with an actual human editor. Everyone needs an editor—no matter how experienced a writer they are.

An editor has a tight grip on grammar, usage, style, and punctuation. (More detail below.)

But more than that, they know you. Your voice. Your quirks. Your style.

They know you tend to overuse a word like “shenanigans.” They know when to push back because you're being lazy and relying on cliché. They know that when you use a sentence fragment it's because it clicks perfectly into the spot where a full sentence would not. And they know you want to use “would not” in that last sentence because “wouldn't” doesn't sound the way you hear that music in your head.

That's why I say “your longtime editor.” A great editor is one who doesn't correct as much as call you to your best work.

“Great” takes time to develop. I've worked with the same editor for forever—maybe 15 years? I now have a co-dependency with him: I can't publish anything without his input. (“Actually, that's not codependency; that's a healthy dependency,” corrects my internal mental health monitor.) (Fair ’nuf.)

* * *

I put editors into three major categories:

1. Copyeditors/proofreaders clean up problems and check facts. They wield a push broom around the text: sweeping away messy style issues, punctuation, typos, misspelling, and so on.
2. Substantive editors give a piece of writing a high-level read. They offer suggestions on how parts of it might be improved or which parts need to be expanded or condensed.

   They offer broad feedback on things like the overall structure, development, the direction of a piece.

3. Line editors comb through a piece to check grammar, word choice, and paragraph and sentence flow—while sometimes rephrasing or rewriting as well. The trick is to rephrase when it's needed … without completely erasing the writer's voice.

In most organizations, substantive editors and line editors are the same person, editing on two separate passes.

* * *

Copyeditors and proofreaders are easy to find. Increasingly, robots or artificial intelligence tools help (at least for a first pass). (See Part VII: Content Tools.)

Substantive editors and line editors are more difficult to find.

An editor needs an ability to think conceptually and logically. They need to see the big picture (the concept) and also see how the specific parts should be organized to fit into that picture (the logic of it).

They need to understand the writer. But they also think about audience.

It can be a tall order for someone who probably majored in English Lit in college (LOL).

* * *

There are other types of editors. Your organization might use one or more of these people, depending on the nature of your business.

• Sensitivity editors (also sensitivity readers) check for inclusivity. They flag offensive writing, unintentional bias, stereotypes, misrepresentation, tone-deafness, and so on.
• Technical editors watch for technical accuracy in documentation, instruction manuals, and the like. They excel at translating jargon and tech-speak into something more easily understood.
• Fact checkers verify sources and … well, facts. Usually this role is folded into the copyeditor's job. One exception is large media companies, where fact-checking is its own thing.