What is developmental editing?

Editing a manuscript, paper, article, etc., can often be a daunting process. But the benefits far outweigh the negatives (which, in this editor’s opinion, aren’t really negatives at all). 

From the Latin edere, meaning “to bring forth or produce,” by the late eighteenth century, the word edit had come to mean “to supervise for publication,” and by the late nineteenth century referred to revisions done to a manuscript. 

Today the editing process is largely broken down into different categories, broadly defined as: developmental editing, line editing, copyediting, and proofreading. Each is often undertaken by a separate editor, though most developmental editors are also line editors, and a manuscript must undergo each type of editing before it can be published. In fact, this is largely one of the most detrimental shortcomings of self-publishing. Any publisher that lets an author determine the course or amount of editing, if any at all, is wasting your time, and possibly your money. Not to mention that it is a glaring disservice to both the writer and the reader. 

What does a developmental editor do?

The primary misconception about editing is that it’s just catching grammatical mistakes or errors in punctuation. However, developmental editing (also known as substantive, structural, or content editing) focuses on macro-level revisions. On one end, a developmental editor may work with an author from the inception of an idea (hence, “developmental”), and on the other, a developmental editor may work with an author on content, structure, flow, and style. 

Developmental editors are arguably an author’s greatest asset in refining their work for an audience and for publication. In fact, almost all of the greatest works of literature (in particular from the larger, traditional publishing houses) are the result of an author working with a developmental editor before publication. This editor­–writer relationship is often typified in the relationships of great twentieth century writers like F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe with editor Max Perkins (though this last relationship was admittedly a bit fraught); T.S. Eliot with editor and friend Ezra Pound; or Emily Dickinson with editor Thomas Wentworth Higginson.

Every developmental editor’s approach is unique. As Scott Norton, a developmental editor at the University of California Press, notes in his book Developmental Editing, “many developmental editors have a process that is intuitive and organic… [and] can manifest in a number of ways. Some ‘big picture’ editors provide broad direction by helping the author to form a vision for the book, then coaching the author chapter by chapter to ensure that the vision is successfully executed. Others get their hands dirty with the prose itself, suggesting rewrites at the chapter, section, paragraph, and sentence levels.”

My style as a developmental editor is hands on, and much like Robin Robertson, editorial director of Jonathan Cape in London, I loosely conceive of the phases of a developmental edit in three stages, with the author revising on the editor’s notes at the end of each stage. The first phase consists of reading the entirety of the manuscript with a reader’s eye, “looking for the general shape: the rhythm, the consistency of the prose… extraneous scenes or characters, narrative lacunae, etc” (Bell 2007). Simply put, the first phase is about structure, organization, character, and narrative flow.

The second phase, humorously detailed by Robertson, operates under the notion that “the car has a chassis, four wheels and a working engine, but may still benefit from tuning, lubrication and a paint job—and, if required, some optional extras” (Bell 2007). In other words, once the big-picture revisions are made, it’s time for a stylistic or line edit, refining paragraph or sentence level issues with clarity, flow, or consistency. The third phase is then all about the little details. Each phase may require several back-and-forth’s between an author and editor, depending upon the extent of an editor’s notes, the quality sought by both parties, and an author’s timely revisions.

What makes a good editor?

The short answer: good editors are good readers. From the early history of the written word, there was power to be found in reading. The classical Greek poet Menander wrote “those who can read see twice as well.” And as Susan Bell notes in her book The Artful Edit, “ancient autocrats did not want their subjects to see that well. Order relied on obedience, not knowledge and reflection.” It’s hard not to see parallel’s today.

Bell writes, “when we read well, we are thinking hard for ourselves—this is the essence of freedom. It is also the essence of editing. Editors… think hard about it, interpret, and ultimately, influence it.”

The best advice I’ve received was simple: a good editor works for the reader. On one level it means that we take an author’s work, look at it with fresh eyes, and revise it to ensure that the author’s message is clear to a reader. On another level, it means thinking about the reader’s experience of the work. Is the work poignant, enjoyable, complex? Does the writing confront, challenge, or teach? Is it a page-turner or a slow burn? Is it informative, and if so, are references properly cited and distributed throughout the text? Is it beautifully rendered and emotive or knee-slappingly comic? And finally, are the qualities of the work the qualities that the reader wants?

It is the editor’s job to ask these questions, find the gaps, and provide solutions to improve the reader’s experience of the author’s work.

“Writers stop writing a text at some point, with the knowledge that something, if only a word, might still, might always be changed for the better. Readers, not the writer, then finish the work, again and again, with their interpretations of it.” —Susan Bell, The Artful Edit

Written by: Jessica Kaplan

Bibliography and Recommended Reading:

Susan Bell (2007), The Artful Edit

Scott Norton (2009), Developmental Editing

Peter Ginna (2017), What Editors Do

“Robert Gottlieb, the Art of Editing No. 1,” interviewed by Larissa MacFarquhar in The Paris Review