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Want to copyedit fiction for indie authors? Even if you have extensive experience of working for publishers, there are skills and knowledge you might need to acquire before making the shift.
Publishing has its own language
Fiction copyediting means something specific in a publishing company. It’s usually (there are always exceptions to the rule) the corrective work that focuses on spelling, punctuation, grammar, consistency and logic.
It’s important work – meticulous and detailed. It stops a character giving birth two months before she got pregnant; it spots when your protagonist’s eyes have changed colour; it flags up the trigger safety that doesn’t exist on the model of gun being described. In the wider world, ‘copyediting’ can mean all sorts of things. It will include all of the above but might include a deeper level of stylistic work. Some editors will use different terminology to describe their services, such that this middle-level editing – further down the chain than developmental or structural work but higher up than the prepublication proofread – is more intense. Some editors even include developmental/structural work in their ‘copyediting’ service because their target clients fall into one or both of the following categories:
The mismatch between language and need
Some editors work only for publishers. Some work only for indie authors. Some work for both.
That messy publishing language becomes problematic when everyone’s using one term – ‘copyediting’ – to mean different things. Plus, none of us knows what we don’t know. If an editor has copyedited fiction only for publishers, and then moves into the indie-author market, there’s a risk that their knowledge and skills match the needs and expectations of mainstream publishers, but not those of indie authors. Many indie authors are self-publishing for the first time. They’ll expect a professional editor to know what they don’t. But a fiction copyeditor, just by virtue of having done something called ‘fiction copyediting’ as defined by publishers, might not know how to handle the stylistic issues in a book. That doesn’t mean they’re a bad editor. It means they have a specific skill set that might not be what the indie author needs or asks for. Case study: Good editor but bad fit
The author
Jo Pennedanovel is navigating the independent publishing world for the first time. She’s never gone it alone so she’s working from scratch – writing, finding editorial support and a cover designer, building a promotion strategy, and learning about sales and distribution platforms. The brief Jo knows that more than a proofread is required, but she’s happy with the big-picture aspects of her novel. She needs something in the middle: ‘copyediting’, she’s heard it called. So that’s what she looks for. Jo goes online and searches for a copyeditor, finds someone who has over a decade’s worth of experience of copyediting fiction for some of the big-name publishing houses. If that editor’s good enough for them, they’re good enough for Jo! Jo hires the copyeditor for her book. The outcome Jo’s a professional and takes her writing seriously. She knows there will be outstanding glitches that were missed at copyediting stage, so she hires another editor to proofread her book. All well and good so far. The editor fixes the outstanding proofreading glitches but notices the following:
The fix The proofreader could ignore all the line-craft issues. After all, he’s not been commissioned to do this work and it will cut into his hourly rate. And anyway, shouldn’t the previous editor have fixed this stuff? Still, he’s committed to editorial excellence, wants a cracking book in his portfolio, and would like to work with that author again, so he decides that ignoring these problems isn’t an option. He could do one of the following:
I’ve done all three in my time. My choice was based on the author, my schedule, and the connection I felt with the project. There’s no wrong or right, just informed decision-making. What’s gone wrong in the editing process?
So what went wrong in that case study? This problem arises because of flawed assumptions about language and responsibility.
Language
The author and the editor are using the same language to describe different outcomes.
What Jo needed was an editor who recognizes that ‘copyediting’ could mean something different in the author’s head – something like: Do what’s required to make my prose sing! I don’t know what those things are, but that’s why I’m hiring you. What she got was a traditional high-quality copyedit as defined by a different client type. It’s work that she needed, but not all the work she needed. Responsibility
A frequent fallback position on the editor’s part is this: it’s the author’s fault because they didn’t hire the right service. Jo shouldn’t have commissioned a copyedit when stylistic work was required.
That’s flawed. She hired a professional editor precisely because they’re a professional editor. She wanted them to show her what she didn’t know. The situation is complicated further by the fact that editors define their services differently. I offer ‘line-/copyediting’. Some of my colleagues offer the same level of intervention but call it just ‘copyediting’. Others offer two distinct services: ‘line editing’ and ‘copyediting’. Yet others don’t even call line editing ‘line editing’. It might be called ‘substantive editing’ or ‘stylistic editing’. It is any wonder that an indie author chooses to ignore the tangled terminology and focus on collating a shortlist of editors who have extensive experience of working for traditional industry gatekeepers – publishers? That works splendidly when the editors have the skills and knowledge to go beyond what a publisher might expect from a fiction copyedit. But it can fall of a cliff when the rigidity of the terminology restricts the depth of editing required. How can editors help fix the problem?
Editors must take responsibility for the language they use and the skills they have so that they’re fit for a diverse indie-author market. That means learning and educating.
Learn line craft
Fiction editors serving indie authors should learn line craft – the stylistic sentence-level editing that might be required. If we don’t understand the likes of show and tell, narrative viewpoint, tense, holding suspense, dialogue craft, and so on, we should question whether we’re ready for this market. And if we do still want to serve this market with publisher-defined copyediting, we must be explicit about the fact that we don’t offer solutions to stylistic problems in prose. Still, being able to say we don’t offer those solutions means understanding what they are in the first place. Not recognizing them is not an option.
Educate authors
We must go the extra mile to ensure that our online and direct communications with authors explain the different levels of editing and how we define them. A website that boasts of our achievements but doesn’t show our understanding of the craft of fiction editing doesn’t help a beginner author make informed decisions. It serves only us, not them. That can lead to disappointment on the author’s part. And disappointment leads to mistrust, not just with the editor who did the work but with the global editorial community in general. Editors frequently report that editing is ‘undervalued’ and ‘underpaid’. But value and worth have to be earned. So does trust. When an editor works with an indie author, but doesn’t have the skills to offer what’s required, or is ignorant of the fact that they don’t have those skills, it’s they – not the author – who is bringing down value and worth in the editing industry. How can authors help fix the problem?
Writers can help themselves too. If you’re an indie author, and you’re not one hundred per cent sure about what you need, do the following:
Author checklist: Finding a good-fit editor
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Summing up
What publishers expect from a fiction copyeditor is often very different to what indie authors will want or need.
If you’re an editor who wants to offer sentence-level work for indie authors, think about the following:
Even if you have an extensive fiction copyediting background by virtue of having worked for a ton of mainstream publishers, there might still be a mismatch between what’s required or what’s asked for and your own definitions and experience. Be prepared to learn, and to show what you’ve learned when you communicate with indie authors. That’s how we build trust, value and worth. About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
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Here are 10 tips to help you prepare the way for editing and proofreading fiction for independent authors and self-publishers.
Tips for specializing in fiction ...
If your editorial business is relatively new and you’re keen to specialize in fiction editing, there are some core issues that are worth considering. Some of these certainly apply to other specialisms, but fiction does bring its own joys and challenges.
1. Untangle the terminology
You'll need to be sensitive to the fact that your clients may not be familiar with conventional editorial workflows or the terms we use to describe them!
Clarify what the client expects, especially when using terms like ‘proofreading’ and 'editing'.
2. Discuss the revision extent
Clarify the extent of revision required before you agree a price.
3. Manage expectations
Find out how many stages of professional editing the file has already been through.
4. Put the client first – it’s all about the author
What’s required according to the editorial pro and what’s desired by the client (owing to budget or some other factor) could well be two very different things.
5. Be a champion of solutions
The authors we’re working with are at different stages of writing-craft development.
Some are complete beginners, some are emerging, others are developing and yet others are seasoned artists. If they’re in discussion with us, it’s because they think we can help.
6. Be prepared to walk away
Sometimes the author and the editor are simply not a good fit for each other. In the case of fiction, this can be because the editor can't emotionally connect with the story.
7. Decide whether fiction’s a good fit for you
There are challenges and benefits to fiction editing and proofreading.
8. Do a short sample edit before you commit
Unless you’ve previously worked with the author, work on a short sample so that you know what you’re letting yourself in for.
9. Query like a superhero!
All querying requires diplomacy, but fiction needs a particularly gentle touch.
10. Keep your clients’ mistakes to yourself
Some of our self-publishing clients are pulled a thousand-and-one ways every day. And, yet, they’ve found the time and energy to write a book. We must salute them.
Some are right at the beginning of the journey. There’s still a lot to learn and they’re on a budget; they’ve not taken their book through all the levels of professional editing that they might have liked to if things had been different. Some haven't attended writer workshops and taken courses, and they probably never will – there’s barely enough time in the day to deal with living a normal life, never mind writing classes. They’re doing the best they can. With that in mind, respect the journey.
We must always, always respect the writer and their writing, and acknowledge the privilege of having been selected to edit for them. Those are my 10 tips for working with indie fiction writers! I hope you find them useful as you begin your own fiction-editing journey! Learn more about fiction editing
Visit the fiction editing section of my resource library. You'll find books, booklets, webinars, courses and podcast episodes.
About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
If you're a new proofreader or editor and you're wondering whether you should specialize, here's my advice on how to stand out.
Get the free booklet
I believe that being a specialist makes sense in a global editorial market, and in this free mini ebook, I discuss how using the appropriate language helps you achieve the following goals, even if you're a new starter:
Should you edit or proofread pornography? What if it’s erotica? Is there even a difference?
Does sexually explicit written material deserve to be edited? What is it exactly, and what is it not? And if you want to edit it, how do you make yourself visible to its authors? 
Is erotica even your editorial wheelhouse?
Perhaps you have strict criteria for the types or subgenres of pornography or erotica that you’ll edit. In that case, how can you communicate these to potential clients?
Here’s my take. And it is only my take. Some of my colleagues won’t touch the stuff with a bargepole. And those who will? Well, everyone has their individual boundaries. What is pornography? And what is it not?
If only there were a universally accepted definition of pornography. There isn’t, alas. What you consider porn may not be what I consider porn. Or one of us might think a written work is more erotic than pornographic. Others might not even bother making a distinction.
And that’s the first thing any editor needs to recognize. The term ‘pornography’ is loaded with subjectivism and preconceptions, many of them heteronormative, so what you’re expecting and what actually ends up in your editing studio could be two very different things. ‘Pornography is notoriously difficult to define, and overburdened with assumptions concerning – at the very least – gender, sexuality, power, globalization, desire, affect, and labour,’ say Rebecca Sullivan and Alan McKee. Oxford offers the following broad definition: ‘Printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity, intended to stimulate sexual excitement.’ And broad it is. Too broad, in my opinion, because it doesn’t exclude materials with descriptions or displays of non-consenting performers and minors, which are illegal. What we can say is that definitions are contested – in society, in the courts, and in academic literature. That makes it difficult for the editor who’s asked, ‘Do you copyedit pornography?’ because even if you think you don’t, others might think you do because they have different opinions on what constitutes porn. So what do we do? I think custom guidelines are the answer, particularly if you decide to publicize the fact that you’re happy to edit sexually explicit material. Before we discuss these, let’s consider erotica. Is there a difference between pornography and erotica?
If there is a difference, it’s unlikely that the lines of distinction so clearly drawn in your own head will be shared by everyone else you consult on the matter.
Echoing Sullivan and McKee, Leon F Seltzer notes the degree to which ‘the criteria used for distinguishing between the erotic and pornographic [are] … steeped in personal moral, aesthetic, and religious values’. And he goes on to say that the erotic ‘doesn’t appeal exclusively to our senses or carnal appetites. It also engages our aesthetic sense.’ Tracy Cooper-Posey’s distinction draws specifically on novel-craft: erotica isn’t ‘only about sex, unlike its gutter-cousin, pornography. At its purest, the new erotic novel is a brilliantly-written story with super-nova sex that compliments the caliber of the writing, and is fundamental to the plot and characters. In other words, if you remove the sex, the story can’t be told.’ And so it may be that if you, the editor, decide a manuscript’s sexually explicit content contains enough celebration of the human form and is written to a high enough standard, or has a good enough plot, then it’s erotica. If not, it’s porn. It seems to me that getting bogged down in the definitions will get us nowhere fast. The terminology is as tangled as that used to describe editorial services (well, maybe not that bad!). If the author’s struggling to write well, but is trying to create erotica, who am I to say it’s porn? And if it’s just sex that aims for nothing but titillation, but it’s written beautifully, artfully, does that mean it’s no longer porn? If your decision is down to the art-versus-smut argument, one thing’s for sure: you’re going to need to see a sample. And if you want to work on only certain types of material, you’ll do well to create some guidelines. Creating guidelines to keep you comfortable
Guidelines don’t just help you and the writer decide whether you’re a good fit. They’re also a great way of demonstrating your engagement with the subject and your willingness to have a conversation with a nervous or embarrassed author.
What should you include? There’s no one way of going about this; include whatever’s important to you and what you want the author to know. Here are just a few ideas:
Are pornography and erotica worth editing?
‘Even filth needs editing,’ said my colleague Louise Bolotin when she wrote about the issue on my blog back in 2012, and I agree.
The porn and erotica writers for whom I’ve worked are as committed to their writing as any crime fiction, thriller or literary fiction author. A client recently told me, ‘I love my writing and with your help I hope it can lead to something else. If we don’t dream, then we don’t create. I’m proud of my stories but this is a whole new world for me, and like anybody who writes, there’s insecurity.’ What was I dealing with? Not plot, no. Seltzer’s and Cooper-Posey’s definitions chimed here. But my client needed a lot of help with punctuation to make the narrative readable. He’d omitted all speech marks, so the dialogue was invisible. There were repetition and syntax problems. But the writing was strong – imaginative, funny, clever, sexy – and in this book at least, I think he had a great turn of phrase (almost poetic at times). The pace was good, the language potent, and the sex appropriately disgraceful. All in all, I think he did an excellent job! Even so, prior to editing, the book wasn’t publishable because it didn’t conform to recognizable standards of spelling, punctuation and grammar. The reader would have struggled to enjoy the story because they’d have been pulled out of it with every missing full point and speech mark. And that’s my job (and yours) – to help the author help the reader. So, yes, I think pornography and erotica are absolutely worthy of being edited. A word on the market
We know there’s a market for pornography and erotica. There are readers with an appetite for these genres, and writers ready to feed it. Those writers need editors to make those stories as good as they can be.
If you’re comfortable working on adult material, then you’d do well to make this clear because there seems to be a dearth of professional editors advertising the fact. When it comes to advertising in editorial directories, you'll likely have the least competition if you're prepared to edit porn and erotica Being visible – getting work
If pornography and erotica are genres you want to edit or proofread, approach the issue as you would any other subject specialism.
The political science professor will be drawn to editors and proofreaders who make it explicit that they welcome this type of work, have experience of editing the subject matter, and provide resources and guidance that demonstrates that expertise. Pornography and erotica authors are no different. And so:
Anxiety – yours and the author’s
Some editors are keen to take on the work but anxious that it might reflect badly on them. Does being public about your willingness to edit pornography and erotica damage your reputation?
I don’t believe so. Pornography and erotica are recognized genres. As long as we present our willingness to edit them with the same professionalism as we’d approach politics or philosophy, science fiction or romance, I see no problem. Just make sure that you're committed to marketing your editorial businesses, and that you're focusing on the value we can bring to the table. That’s what clients concentrate on, not the things that are of no interest to them. A thriller writer will care that you work on thrillers, not that you also copyedit erotica and historical fiction. Editors aren’t the only Nervous Nellies. Some of the writers who’ve contacted me about editing porn and erotica are anxious too. The emails usually started with something on the lines of ‘I feel a little embarrassed about this but …’ or ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking but …’ Again, guidelines and resources can help to reassure an author before they send the email. Summing up
If you’re happy to edit porn and erotica, go for it. If you aren't, that's fine too. As independent business owners we can choose what material we want to work on and what we don’t.
Wanting to edit a particular genre isn’t enough. Make sure your willingness to edit porn and erotica is visible – on your website and in the editorial directories you advertise in. If you don’t say it, you won’t be heard. Further reading
About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
What's different about fiction editing, and is it for you? This post explores emotional responsiveness, mindfulness and artistry.
A line editing and copyediting focus
To keep things tidy, I'm talking in the main about line editing and copyediting fiction because I specialize in sentence-level work, but some of the key principles will apply to developmental fiction editing too.
Why fiction editing is a different kind of artistry
Have you ever tried something for the first time and found it difficult?
Did someone review your initial effort? Did they outline problems before celebrating your achievement? If so, how did you feel? I suspect most of us have encountered this scenario at some time or other. I have, and it feels just awful. A review of anything that focuses only on the negatives – however kindly those negatives are offered – is a poor review. It matters not whether you’re an editor, a business executive, a marketer, or a parent; if you can’t find a single good thing to celebrate in the work in front of your nose, then you’ve not done the job properly. When editing fiction, the ability to celebrate first is critical – more so, I think, than with non-fiction. Note that by non-fiction I’m referring to academic, technical and journalistic works, not narrative non-fiction (sometimes called creative or literary non-fiction) such as memoir or biography, where I think the editing challenges are similar to the fiction specialist’s. In a nutshell, editing criminology requires a different touch to editing crime fiction. It’s personal for writers
Every writer’s book is their baby, and most writers will infuse their tomes with their own experiences. But when those experiences concern matters of love, grief, sex or despair, the process of writing – and of being edited – takes on a whole new level of intimacy.
I’ve lost count of the number of authors who’ve told me they felt physically sick at the thought of contacting an editor, never mind emailing me the file. Many feel vulnerable, exposed, embarrassed. And why wouldn’t they? Imagine handing over hundreds, even thousands of pounds to a stranger to look at an image of you and suggest how to make it better – not just any image, mind. You’re naked in this one. For many, that’s what it feels like to be edited. And so the fiction editor is charged with a responsibility. And it’s huge. Best versus best-fit editors
Put 10 fiction editors in a room and ask them to work on the same 2,000 words. You’ll likely come back with 10 very different samples. That’s because fiction editing is subjective.
It’s not that the rules of grammar, spelling and punctuation don’t apply. It’s not even that they apply less rigidly. It’s rather that they apply differently. Just a single change to a punctuation mark can affect tension, pace, mood. One of my regular authors has a mantra: ‘Louise, as always, keep it lean and mean.’ He’s a crime writer. It’s high-octane stuff. Low on adverbs. Low on conjunctions. Short, choppy sentences. The protagonist looks over his shoulder a lot. And if the punctuation is sympathetic, the reader looks with him. Compare this with another recent project. It’s essentially a love story – a woman’s search for her exiled family. The tale is one of heartbreak, abandonment, reconciliation and redemption. The author’s style is more fluid, prosaic. The protagonist isn’t looking over her shoulder but searching her soul. Every change needs to reflect this. How I go about reflecting these authors’ intentions will not necessarily be the same as one of my colleagues. It’s not that one of us is better at editing than the other. Rather, it’s how we interpret those intentions – and seek to mimic them – that’s different. We’re not talking about who’s the best, but who’s the best fit. That’s something the author must decide. And it’s tricky. How does a writer search for best fit on Google, or in an editorial directory, or on social media? How do they find that elusive emotional responsiveness to their writing? Assessing emotional responsiveness – the sample edit
Fiction editors don’t have a monopoly on sample edits, but there is, I believe, an added dimension here in which samples really come into their own.
Physically working on a piece of text helps every editor get a sense of the writing style, where the problems are and whether they’re capable of solving them, how long the job will take and how it should be priced. For the fiction editor, there’s something else, though – the feel of it. It’s our first opportunity to find out whether we can get under the skin of the author. And if we can’t, it might mean walking away. If we can’t respond emotionally to the author’s intentions – feel our way through the words and into the characters and the world they inhabit – the edit could be impaired. You can’t mimic an author seamlessly if you’re unmoved by what you’re reading. There’s a lot of talk about authorial voice in the editing world. In fiction editing, the concept can be a tad limiting.
A sample edit has its limitations, of course, by virtue of size. But it gives the author and the editor a glimpse of whether that emotional responsiveness is present and how it’ll be managed on the page such that the fit feels right. Ultimately, fiction editing is as much about the heart as the head. The mindful rules of fiction editing
Once the author and editor have found each other, the mindful rules of fiction editing will come into play ... during the edit, and in the post-edit summary or report. Here are mine:
The author should leave the editing studio feeling empowered to move forward, not reaching for a mop because their self-confidence has leaked all over the floor. Fiction is a specialism
Fiction editing isn’t for everyone. If you’re keen to specialize in this kind of work, ask yourself where you lie on the empathy scale.
Many specialist fiction editors I know describe themselves as being a little on the oversensitive side. Terms such as introspective or contemplative are never far away. I cry at some adverts, so it’s no surprise to me that I ended up in this line of work! This emotionality can serve the fiction editor well, but it’s not something that can be learned on a training course. That’s not to say that specialist fiction editorial training isn’t worth doing – far from it. But mindfulness is your friend, too – don’t be afraid to embrace it in your editorial practice! About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
Sophie Playle explains what a manuscript critique is and how it benefits fiction writers.  What is a manuscript critique?A critique sounds a bit daunting, akin to the word criticise – but it's not a harsh deconstruction. Essentially, a critique looks at the big-picture elements of a manuscript (plot, pace, characters, voice, etc.) and offers a constructive analysis. The critique is offered as a report, which is usually between 5 and 15 pages (though I have written reports of up to 25 pages) depending on how many issues I feel need to be addressed, or depending on the length of the manuscript. It doesn't include any sentence-based editing, though if there is a recurring issue throughout the manuscript, I would flag it up within the report as a general area to look at. The aim is to show where the writing succeeds and where it could be improved, to better inform the writer's next step. What else is a manuscript critique called?It's often called a manuscript appraisal or manuscript review, but I favour the term manuscript critique because what I provide goes beyond an assessment, also offering possible ways to address the issues I might highlight. Who are the clients? Most of my critiquing clients are writers on a journey to self-publication, or writers who want to increase their chances of representation for traditional publication. Generally, a client will be interested in making sure the core of their novel is as good as it can be, and looking for external professional confirmation and/or suggestions for development. This type of assessment comes before any copy-editing or proofreading, and can be used to test ideas (with a sample of the novel plus a synopsis) or strengthen complete novels when the writer feels there is more work to be done but is not sure how to go about it. The benefits of a manuscript critiqueA critiquing service is not needed for everyone, but it can help a writer:
Those next steps might be:
Is hiring a professional necessary?Often, beta readers (friends, colleagues, etc.) can give a writer a useful big-picture perspective on their writing. However, a professional critique goes much deeper – with the added benefit of an honest appraisal (something that might be skewed by kindness from friends!). Impact on the writerWriters are often told that they need a thick skin – and that certainly comes in useful with a critique. Though I attempt to critique with the utmost sensitivity and respect, I feel the biggest injustice to a writer would be to offer them hollow advice and empty praise. Sometimes the assessment can be a bit of a shock to the writer, so it's important to remember that the critique is designed to improve the project, and not to negatively criticise the writer as an individual. It's often very difficult to accept that there might be some fundamental issues with a manuscript that will need substantive work, so when a writer sends their novel to be critiqued, I would say: be prepared for some more hard work ahead! This time round we’re looking at editing and writing genre fiction, and sharing his wisdom is my colleague Marcus Trower.  About Marcus Trower
What is genre fiction?Louise Harnby: Welcome, Marcus, and thanks for taking the time to explore the field of genre fiction with us. So to start off, and for the benefit of those who are new to the field and unsure of the terminology, can you tell us what the term “genre fiction” means. Marcus Trower: Thanks for having me, Louise. The border between literary fiction and genre fiction can be a little blurred at times, but basically we’re talking about crime fiction, thrillers, sci-fi, romance, fantasy – that type of book – and the many sub-genres within those genres. Another term for genre fiction is “commercial fiction”. We’re talking plot-driven novels with an emphasis on entertaining the reader. That’s not to say that they can’t deal with big issues. They tend to be books that aren't say, experimental in form, however. These are novels in which, if there’s an unreliable narrator, it’s likely to be in the sense that he or she is someone who can’t be trusted to meet another character at a place and time they've agreed. And should you encounter navel-gazing in a work of genre fiction, it will be during a scene in which a character is admiring the midsection of his or her love interest rather than a passage in which the author, thinly disguised as the narrator, likens his life to a Buñuel film. Favourite subgenresLH: Can you tell us a bit about the editing work you’ve completed? Which particular subgenres most excite you from the point of view of an editor, a reader, and a writer? MT: I specialize in working with authors of genre fiction, and within that field, I would say 75 per cent of the total number of books I work on are either mysteries or thrillers, so crime is very much my specialism. The other 25 per cent tends to consist of sci-fi, romance, the odd translation, and the odd zombie story set in medieval England – I’m thinking of The Scourge, by Roberto Calas, which I edited recently. I have a specialism within a specialism, too: mysteries and thrillers with a Spanish language component tend to come my way, since I lived in Spain for a couple of years, and I know my way around the Spanish language. Mysteries have always appealed to me as a reader. I think that’s because I’m fascinated by the idea of hidden patterns and motivations lying beneath the familiar surface of life. Offering my services as a mysteries and thrillers specialist is a natural and sensible thing for me to do, not only because I like reading crime fiction, but also because I’ve been writing my own crime story, a tale set in the underworld of Rio De Janeiro, and I’ve studied the craft of writing crime fiction to an advanced level in order to enhance my own writing. When I started writing the novel a few years back, I made the mistake of thinking that because I’d had a work of narrative non-fiction published, I knew how to string scenes together and tell a story. Fortunately, I soon realized how wrong I was, and I subsequently took crime fiction writing classes to learn about things like POV, building tension, characterization, scene setting, dialogue mechanics, and so on. The courses I took gave me a knowledge base that is incredibly useful to me when it comes to editing the work of other authors writing crime fiction in particular and genre fiction in general. The editing processLH: You’re intervening at a much earlier stage [than proofreading] and in a more invasive manner. While I do want to explore the challenges of doing this kind of work, and how you manage the working relationship with an author who’s put their heart and soul into their novel, I think that, first, it would be helpful to understand a bit about the process. So, when you receive a manuscript, how do you go about it? How do you actually structure this kind of work? MT: I like to read the first couple of chapters without editing or commenting in order to bond with the material. I often make a few notes, jotting down characters’ names and so forth, which will help me later on. During a first read, I’m looking at everything – grammar, syntax, punctuation and style, as well as POV, characterization, scene setting, plot coherence, continuity, verb tense use, dialogue mechanics, possible legal issues, and so on. One moment I might be adjusting hyphenation, the next I might be flagging the fact that an author has forgotten to give a physical description of a key character or querying whether he or she has sought permission to use song lyrics. What I love about copy-editing fiction is how many levels you have to think on. As I said, during that first read, I’m looking to fix or flag absolutely anything and everything that is, or could be, an issue. But I like to keep the forward momentum going during the first read, so if there’s an issue that comes up that requires more than a little thought, I’ll usually flag the passage it comes in and return to it later. Often that’s a wise move, because your perspective on a particular issue can change quite radically the deeper you get into a novel. The first read should remove simple distractions – misspellings, say, or awkward or incorrect style choices – allowing me to see even deeper still into what’s going on in the manuscript during a second read. I spend a lot of time working on comments addressed to the author, making sure that I get the tone right, explain an issue clearly and lay out options effectively. I tend to comment a lot; on average, I write between 150 and 250 comments in the margins of each manuscript – using Microsoft Word’s commenting tool, of course, rather than writing by hand on a hard copy. I know from what publishers and authors tell me that I’m considered to be at the very-thorough end of the editing spectrum, but in my mind I’m actually trying to intervene and comment as little as possible. My aim is to support the author, not impose myself on his or her work in any way, shape or form. When I’m satisfied that I’ve finished going through a novel, I spend a good amount of time reviewing the edits I’ve made, checking that they are correct and consistent, and making any necessary adjustments. I check through all my comments, too, and finish off my editorial letter to the author, which I begin composing during the second pass, and which can run to 2,500 words in length. I like to sit on a manuscript for a couple of days before returning it and the letter, just in case something else occurs to me. How being a writer influences editingLH: You were a journalist in another life, and you’re a published author. This means you edit and you’ve been edited. Is the fact that you’ve been on the other side of the fence, so to speak, a benefit to your editing practice? I feel like I already know the answer to that question, but I’d like to hear your thoughts on it anyway. Is the fact that you’re a writer yourself something you take the time to explain to your clients at the outset? And on the flip side, do you sometimes feel that being an author yourself gets in the way? In other words, can you wear both hats at once or do you feel the need to separate the two at times? MT: Right, I was a journalist for many years. I started off in journalism working for music magazines in the early 1990s – publications such as Record Mirror, Kerrang! briefly, Melody Maker and Vox. I also worked for Time Out and Empire, as well as The Big Issue and Loaded at the beginning of their lives. I subsequently worked for some of the nationals, most notably The Times and a section of The Mail on Sunday that belied the Guardian reader’s stereotypical image of what a publication from the Daily Mail camp is like – in fact, a lot of the journalists I worked alongside there went on to work for The Guardian and The Observer. I freelanced in contract publishing, too, for many years. During all that time, I was always both a writer and an editor. I know what it’s like to be edited well, and I know what it’s like to have what feels like a team of boisterous hippos trample all over my copy. You have to be pretty thick skinned to survive in journalism, though, and there’s not a lot of hand holding. I found that I had to make an adjustment and be a little more delicate and diplomatic when I first started editing fiction than would perhaps be considered necessary in journalism. I don’t go out of my way to mention that I’m a writer to authors, no, but then I don’t hide the fact either, and it’s there in black and white on my website. If I did make a point of mentioning that I’m a writer, that could be a turn-off for authors. They might think I’m going to try to write their book for them, which is one of the worst sins you can commit as an editor. I do stress that I can give feedback on the sort of storytelling elements I’ve already mentioned, though, which does stem from my being a fellow author who’s studied the craft of fiction writing. I never feel like being an author gets in the way – much the opposite. It helps me develop a strong connection with authors and their work. I really, genuinely want to help other writers. To use a terrible cliché, I want to make their book the best it can be. I identify strongly with novelists. I’ve faced the same creative challenges as they have; I’ve faced the same practical ones of trying to find, or buy, the time to write while working a day job. I’ve gone through the difficult process of trying to get an agent, then the even tougher one of trying to get a publisher. I’ve had my fair share of rejection letters and emails. From personal experience, I know how hard trying to make it as an author can be. If I can help other writers by offering them good editing, then that makes me feel good. The author–editor relationshipLH: Getting the author–editor relationship right has got to be crucial, has it not? MT: Yes, it really is. The first thing I do is try to establish a rapport with the author and his or her work. I send out a questionnaire that seeks to find out everything from which other writers out there the author identifies with in terms of style, to how he or she feels about serial commas. The key is to get as good an understanding as possible of what an author is trying to do in his or her work, and to get across right at the beginning that I’m here to help him or her do that. I think it’s very important to set the right tone right at the outset of a book edit in margin comments. On the initial pages, you’re trying to make it clear to the author that he or she is in good hands, you’re not here to mess with his or her style and vision but to enhance the novel, and you’re also trying to establish clearly the principles and reasoning behind certain alterations you’re making so that you can save yourself the trouble of repeating yourself again and again throughout the manuscript. That’s also why it’s a good idea to write a thorough editorial letter. Much of the time I lay out options, since a lot of fiction editing involves making subjective decisions rather than the more objective types of calls you make as a proofreader, say. For example, a comment might begin “You may want to consider . . .” Diplomacy and tact are key. If I spot a dangling participle and a rewrite is in order, I don’t write – and I’m going to exaggerate here – “Honestly, what kind of idiot are you? Do you realize you’ve written a dangler?” but instead something like “There’s a dangler here at the beginning of this sentence . . .”, then quickly move on to laying out a couple of rewrite options, which should prove helpful to the author. You’re there to give constructive help and support. Comparing genre fiction editing with other areasLH: Is editing genre fiction different from editing other types of writing? MT: Obviously there is a lot of crossover with editing other types of writing – there is the same confusion between “it’s” and “its”, or between defining and non-defining relative clauses, say, that you’ll see in all other types of writing. A big difference, though, is that you need to also analyse the storytelling elements I mentioned earlier – POV, scene setting, characterization, etc. Some people would call this big-picture editing, or developmental editing, and not see it as part of the copy editor’s job, but I’ve always offered that kind of feedback and analysis as part of my service, partly because that has been what publishers have asked me to do, and partly because I really do think it is part of the job. If a writer has slipped into omniscient mode while telling a story, but up to that point he or she has been keeping POV discipline and telling the story from the viewpoint of a single character, for example, to my mind that’s just as much a slip as a mistake in grammar or syntax, and it needs to be flagged. There are also style and even punctuation conventions in genre fiction that make it different from other forms of writing. To take an example, in academic writing an ellipsis (…) is used to show the omission of words from a quoted passage, but in genre fiction an ellipsis can be used to indicate that a speaker has paused or trailed off in dialogue, or in narration as a tension-building device – which is something that the crime writer Mark Billingham does, for example. A sentence will begin like this one and be about to reveal some crucial information, and it will . . . have an ellipsis like that one just before the revelation. It’s a little bit like the pause in Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? when a contestant has given his or her final answer, and Chris Tarrant draws out the tension by pausing before revealing whether the answer is correct while that bass-drum music rumbles away in the background. Perhaps, in fact, I should refer to that kind of ellipsis as a Tarrant from now on. Some people might consider it a melodramatic device, but there it is. Getting workLH: Newbies reading this will be curious to know how you go about getting work, Marcus. Running your own editorial business in a crowded market can be a tough gig – so how do find your clients or how do they find you? MT: I work quite a lot for Thomas & Mercer, 47North, Montlake Romance and AmazonCrossing imprints, which are based in the States. They represent a different side of Amazon’s publishing business from the self-publishing side that everyone’s familiar with. I got work with CreateSpace by taking and passing their editing test. Working for them set me on a trajectory of editing fiction written by US authors, and most of my clients are American. I’m a member of an American organization called the Editorial Freelancers Association, and clients find me through a listing I have on its website. I recently started blogging, and a few authors have found me through my website and blog, too. I don’t really go out to actively find clients, to be honest. Maybe I’m a bit naïve, but my attitude is that if I do good work, people will hear about me and find me, so I focus most of my energies on doing a good job, and I let marketing take care of itself, really. One thing I would say, though, is that in my opinion it’s important to have a specialism, as I have. I think it’s better to come across to authors as a specialist in a particular field than it is to sell yourself as a generalist. I don’t worry about losing opportunities by being a specialist, either. The fact is I do get to work on novels other than crime novels anyway. Does location matter? LH: One of the best things about editorial freelance work is that you can live where you want. Given you live on the Maltese island of Gozo and do a lot of work for the US market, is the fact that you don’t live in the States ever a disadvantage, or doesn’t it matter? MT: Yes, I can live where I want in theory. Great, isn’t it? Thank you, Sir Tim Berners-Lee. If I became complacent and started to believe the Brits and Americans use the same language, I would create a problem for myself. Obviously we do share a language, but there are a lot of differences, as we all know. I’m very conscious of the fact that I’m effectively working in another language, though it’s one I’ve been exposed to from a young age through American TV, films and music, and so on. I’ve had to make some adjustments. I write my editorial letters and comments using American punctuation and spelling rules, and I have to use American grammar and punctuation terms when I communicate with authors. There are many good resources, both online and on my bookshelf, in which I can usually find clarification of specific points that relate to US English and crop up during editing. If I do get stuck – and it doesn’t really happen very often, truth be told – there are always people I know in the States I can run a colloquial expression by to check a preposition used is correct, say. I’ve never really thought about this before, but since the US is such a vast place, maybe a New York-based copy editor has to do the same thing if he or she is working on a manuscript that uses a dialect spoken in the Midwest, for example. Obviously, as a copy editor you amass a big pile of language knowledge, but I think that one of the keys to editing, to paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld, is knowing what you don’t know – and to look up whatever that is. Which I don’t think Rumsfeld went on to say. Motivations for writingLH: We’ve primarily talked about your editing; now I’d like to focus on your writing. You post some fabulous articles on your website that are of interest to writers and editors alike. Tell us a bit more about the motivation behind that. And what kinds of things will you be posting about in the future? MT: That’s very kind of you to say. The blog series I write, Be Your Own Copy Editor, aims to help authors, but of course I’m very flattered that fellow editors are reading it, too. Its strapline is “Self-editing advice from the front line of fiction editing”, and that’s the key to the blog for me. It developed because in my work I kept seeing – and still do, of course – the same issues crop up again and again in authors’ manuscripts. I realized that some of these subjects weren't really dealt with properly by grammar books, style manuals and books on writing fiction. There are a lot of resources out there that talk about things such as subject–verb agreement, say, or the difference in meaning between “compliment” and “complement”, but there isn't much guidance about things like when and how to style inner monologue using italics, which I've covered in a blog, or identifying a three-verb compound predicate and punctuating it correctly, another subject I've covered, since compound predicates with three or more verbs are common in genre fiction. I intend to keep posting about issues that are specific to genre fiction but don’t get much coverage, if any, and subjects that are covered elsewhere but which I think need to be both looked at in more depth than they often are and viewed specifically from the perspective of genre fiction. By the way, the series may be called Be Your Own Copy Editor, but I’m not suggesting authors should bypass having their work copy-edited by a professional. My thinking is that the better the shape they get their manuscript in before submitting it to an editor, the more control they have over the final version, and the fewer things there are that can potentially go wrong. I think that’s good for both editors and authors. The books that emergedLH: You also had a non-fiction book published by Ebury Press, The Last Wrestlers, which received some great reviews, and you said you’re writing a crime novel. The two sound a million miles apart! So how did the former come about, and where are you with the latter? MT: They do sound far apart, however a couple of reviewers of my wrestling book were very perceptive in that they described it as being like a crime novel, which I think is true. Like a detective, I was running around the globe – I visited India, Mongolia, Nigeria, Brazil and Australia to do research – trying to discover who had murdered real wrestling and why. The Last Wrestlers grew out of an obsession with wrestling I had during my twenties – with doing it rather than watching it, I should add. I wanted to get to the bottom of why it meant so much to me, and also why it had declined in Britain. I thought, “Hang on. Wrestling is great. It’s a sport with real soul, dignity and history, yet it’s a laughing stock in Britain, where it’s associated with those guys prancing around in spandex on TV. What went wrong?” I spent over two years in the field, as it were, trying to answer that question and other questions. My crime novel is set in the underworld of Rio De Janeiro, a city where I lived for a couple of years, but actually the story sprang partly out of an interview I did with a gunda, the Indian equivalent of a mafia don, while researching my wrestling book in Varanasi. Meeting him affected me a lot. He was young, high caste, physically slight and wore glasses, yet he had personally murdered about eight people, and he controlled elections, politicians and banks in parts of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. In a key opening scene in my crime novel, I transpose certain elements of the meeting to a favela in Rio, and the crime king in my novel is the boss of a fictional drug-dealing crew with similarities to Red Command, which runs a lot of shanty towns in Rio. Being publishedLH: What was the experience of being published like? Again, we’re back to the point about editing versus being edited – that sense, perhaps, of handing over control to someone else. Did you find the process a comfortable one? Do you hope to go down the publisher route with the crime novel or would you consider, or even prefer, self-publishing? MT: I put my heart and soul into my wrestling book, and the research journey I went on nearly killed me – I mean that in the literal sense. I came back from Nigeria with a very serious tropical disease that the best doctors and professors of tropical medicine in the UK couldn’t diagnose and consequently couldn’t treat properly. Fortunately, I recovered spontaneously. But anyway, the point is that my book was incredibly important to me and told a very personal story, and in some ways I paid a high price to research and write it. So yes, it is difficult to hand over a project like that to someone else. But I was very fortunate in that I had input on the developmental editing level from John Saddler, a brilliant agent who was a creative mentor to me, too, and Hannah MacDonald, then at Ebury Press, who was very perceptive and who I felt really understood where I was coming from as an author. She’s a novelist, too, which of course must help her engage with authors. There were one or two anxious moments, such as when I was told readers were unlikely to be able to stomach a book of over 80,000 words in length from a first-time author, and I’d written over 120,000, I think it was – but I felt like I was in really good hands. And in the event the word count wasn't cut dramatically.  I was fortunate enough to be published very well indeed. Since I lived in Brazil at the time, Random House kindly let me stay at the Random House flat in central London for a few days at the time of the book launch. I was given a PR handler, who took me around various radio studios, where I gave interviews. My book was reviewed in the Telegraph, The Sunday Times, twice by The Times, the Literary Review, The Independent, Arena, and a number of other publications. I did Excess Baggage on Radio 4. The book didn’t then go on to sell in the tens of thousands, though it had respectable sales. In hindsight, I think the title may have been a barrier to finding a readership for the book. Essentially, the book is about being a man in the modern world and it speaks about the topic by talking about my obsession with wrestling; it isn’t a book simply about wrestling. But if you look at the book’s cover and read its title, you probably won’t come away with that impression. I have to say I get a little irritated when authors who identify heavily with the self-publishing and indie publishing boom talk about agents and editors at traditional publishing houses as though they are evil incarnate. I know I had a particularly good experience when my book was published, and not everyone is as fortunate as I was, but a lot of nonsense is talked about the traditional route in publishing. A lot of the people who work in publishing or work as agents are doing it because they genuinely love books, and they love breaking new authors. With my own crime novel, I will try to get an agent for it and then a publisher. I came very close to getting represented by a big agency in London when I submitted it to them about 18 months ago – but a miss is as good as a mile, as they say. My first thought – actually, that’s a lie; it was probably my third thought, and the first two thoughts are unprintable – was that the manuscript just wasn’t good enough to get published, and I needed to work on it further. I hope to produce another draft this year, and if the manuscript gets rejected again, no, I won’t self-publish. I’ll take it as another sign that the novel isn’t good enough and try to improve it. However, I am thinking of revising my wrestling book and producing print-on-demand and eBook versions for sale in the States, partly because I know the book will have some appeal there, and partly because I’d like to go through the process of putting out an eBook and print-on-demand book, because that will help me understand the publishing processes involved, which will in turn help me when I work with authors who are self-publishing using print-on-demand and eBook services. Ann Hudson explains what indexing is and what skills you need to do this work.  ‘Any simpleton may write a book, but it requires high skill to make an index.’Rossiter Johnson 1840–1931; from Hazel K. Bell (ed.) Indexers and Indexes in Fact and Fiction. London: The British Library, 2001 The skills that make you suitableDo you enjoy reading? Do you have a logical mind, and take pleasure in creating order out of chaos? Can you encapsulate a complicated concept in a succinct phrase? If so, you may be suited to indexing. What other types of editorial work do indexers do?Many indexers also do proofreading and/or copy-editing, and some of the requirements overlap, such as good language skills, methodical working habits, meticulous attention to detail and a good eye for spotting errors. Computer skills are also vital. Most indexers use dedicated indexing software, which deals with the more mechanical aspects, leaving the indexer to do the brainwork. And as electronic formats develop, indexers have been required to create linked indexes for ebooks and websites using html and xml tagging, or embedded indexing systems. Have search engines made indexing work redundant?Indexers are often asked whether search engines have made their work redundant. This is far from true. A search engine will find mentions of the exact words that you type into it, but will not find alternative spellings or synonyms. Effective indexing is not just a question of extracting words from a text and putting them in alphabetical order. The skill is in:
The ability to organise material clearly, so that readers can easily find their way around, is also essential. Indexers rarely receive praise, because when an index works well it's taken for granted – though people are quick to complain about an inadequate index! How to index effectivelyIn order to index effectively it is essential to understand what you are reading, and to know what sort of information will be useful and relevant to the likely readership. All indexers should be capable of indexing popular texts aimed at the general reader, but more specialised and academic books demand detailed knowledge. Many indexers offer specialisms, often in subjects studied to degree level or beyond; in particular, medical and legal books require detailed subject knowledge and skills. There are also indexers who specialise in cookery books, children’s books, technical manuals, and many other fields. Entering the indexing fieldIndexing is usually a second (or third or fourth) career, and many indexers started out as librarians. Others come from careers in publishing, academia, IT, education and many other areas. The first port of call for anyone interested in indexing in the UK is the Society of Indexers (SI). Other indexing societies include the American Society for Indexing, the Australian and New Zealand Society of Indexers, and the Indexing Society of Canada. Details of other indexing societies worldwide can be found through the SI website. Training courses for indexersThe Society of Indexers runs a distance learning course that provides a thorough training in the fundamental principles of indexing. It is web-based, with detailed study materials to download, practice exercises and resources online, four formal tests, three online tutorials, and a practical indexing assignment. Successful students become Accredited Members of the Society of Indexers, and are entitled to an entry in the online SI Directory of Professional Indexers, widely used by publishers. After two years’ experience, Accredited Members can apply to become Advanced Professional Members of SI. How the Society of Indexers supports membersThe Society of Indexers works hard to support professional indexers in many ways:
There is plenty of support available from other indexers, too. SI members are a friendly bunch, with a lively discussion list and local groups in many parts of the UK. These meet regularly for indexing-related talks and discussions and social activities. Recommended rates for indexersThe Society of Indexers recommends rates on an annual basis. These are applicable to straightforward texts. Experienced indexers working on specialised and complex projects can command higher rates. To find out the latest recommendations, visit Indexing fees. Is it easy to find work and do the work?Inevitably work is harder to find when global economic pressures are impacting on everyone, but well-established indexers are continuing to get regular work, and a good proportion of the newly Accredited indexers each year are managing to establish themselves.
However, it may take several years to acquire enough regular clients to give up the day job. As with any freelance work, you need good business and communication skills, flexibility and a lot of persistence to get a career off the ground. The work is mentally demanding and you must be willing to work long hours to meet urgent deadlines, especially when you're building up your business. It can be lonely work, and to some it would be pure drudgery. However, for me and many others, indexing is a dream job, the culmination of all our previous working experiences, and the ideal way to earn a living. Liz Jones explains the art of editing cookery and craft titles, including tips for approaching an edit and on how to get work.  Why edit cookery and craft titles?When you’re thinking about potential areas of publishing to target or publishers to focus your attentions on, it’s worth considering the cookery and craft genres. They account for a big chunk of the market, with hundreds of titles being published anew every year, or updated or repackaged. The two genres share certain characteristics and considerations. Under the banner of craft I’m including a range of practical subjects, including knitting, crochet, dressmaking, spinning yarn, quilting, painting, drawing, origami, calligraphy, jewellery making … the list is long. Who can do it? In the case of both cookery and craft books, while practical experience and a working knowledge of the subject are both helpful, common sense and a willingness to engage with the material are arguably more important. It is your editorial skill set that you’re being hired for, and any subject-specific knowledge is a bonus. If it’s a subject area that’s a little outside your comfort zone, by all means confess this to the in-house editor, but don’t necessarily let it stop you taking on the job. Having said that, if you are passionate about any particular practical discipline, do draw attention to this when you approach a publisher in these genres. It’ll make you instantly more memorable – and employable. Does practical experience help? You don’t need to be a fantastic cook or a highly accomplished needleworker to successfully edit or proofread a book on the subject. However, some practical experience helps. Take cooking: it’s desirable if you can picture what a pinch of salt looks like, or 4 tablespoons of flour, or 50 grams of butter. A basic understanding of the science behind baking a cake, or a working knowledge of how to make pastry will stand you in good stead. You might not be the next Heston Blumenthal, but you need to care about why a recipe might work … and why it might not. It also helps if you’re into food – possibly even passionately so, even if you don’t do much cooking yourself. (In our house, my husband is the main cook, but we talk about food and recipes all the time.) Know your ingredients. Keep up with food trends. And read lots of cookery books! If you love food, this won’t be a chore. By reading around the subject you’ll get a feel for how recipes are put together, what new ingredients are on the market, how different publishers present similar kinds of information, and what’s desirable in a finished recipe. For craft, it’s important to understand how publishers like their instructional text presented, and to be able to get to grips with the specific jargon relating to the subject. Again, familiarity gained from reading the kinds of titles you’d like to work on is essential. Once you get to know the conventions of the genre, you are as equipped as anyone else to spot problems and inconsistencies in the text. This applies especially to proofreading, and once you’re more comfortable with the subject area it’s straightforward to move into copy-editing if you want. It can be reassuring to know that for cooking, crochet and knitting titles, publishers will often employ a freelance tester or pattern checker who will make up the recipes or projects, as well as an editor and proofreader. What characteristics do these books share? Both genres depend on the reader being able to understand a set of instructions in order to be able to exactly reproduce something at home. Therefore these instructions need to be unambiguous and clear. They should also be free from waffle – the reader does not want to get lost in flowery descriptions while they’ve got their hands covered in icing sugar or superglue. It’s likely you’ll have to wrestle with units of measurement. Sometimes these are given in both metric and imperial, and many jobs therefore require a certain amount of conversion or checking of measurements, or adding-in of missing information. This may seem dull – but it becomes considerably less boring when you consider how much your reader is depending on these measurements being accurate. You need to develop a sixth sense for those that seem "a bit off". Surely they can’t mean 15 kg salt? Why on earth would a patchwork skirt for a human take 35 metres of corduroy? How could a delicate beaded necklace possibly be threaded on wire 25 mm thick? Practical texts are often integrated with images, often in the form of numbered step-by-step sequences. Sometimes the publisher will send you the pictures to look at, and sometimes they won’t. If you have the pictures you need to look closely at each one against the text it accompanies. In this way, especially for craft subjects, a willingness to engage with visual material is important. With instructional text, editing can be about moulding the material to fit a publisher’s paradigm. Many craft titles are templated before they are written, with the author writing to fit a set of presentation layouts. Finally, we’ve all been taught to reject the received wisdom that the passive voice is inherently evil. However, this is less the case when editing cookery and craft texts. The active voice is often preferred – some publishers will even specify this. And when editing instructions, the imperative is often used to get the point across quickly. How should I approach a craft or cookery edit? The heart of any cookery or craft book is the recipes or projects. These often break down into three parts:
Editing the introduction is just like editing any other kind of text – try to retain the author’s voice as much as possible, as this is what gives the book its particular flavour. Then there’s the list of ingredients, or tools and materials in the case of craft. This is where you need to start getting really picky about consistency. The publisher’s house style will often tell you what units of measurement they prefer – metric, imperial, by volume (spoons and cups), or some combination of these. It may also detail exactly how you should phrase the specification of particular items. For instance, is it "a handful of chopped fresh parsley"? Or "a handful of fresh parsley, chopped"? It doesn't only look messy to vary this kind of information – it also makes a difference to accuracy. The ingredients (or materials) should usually be listed in the order in which they are used in the method or instructions. This area often requires your attention, and it should go without saying that every ingredient listed needs to be mentioned in the method, and that every ingredient mentioned in the method needs to be listed. The method or instructions for a dish or project are essential to get right. You need to weed out any ambiguities and inaccuracies; don’t leave the reader wondering what to do with that bowl of freshly melted chocolate, or one bead short of a pair of earrings. Eliminate as much redundancy as you can so that the text is clear and to the point. If a process is repeated throughout the book, try to keep the wording that describes it the same or very similar each time, so the reader understands that it’s the same process. Make sure you understand everything, and can picture what is meant to be happening, even if the subject matter is slightly unfamiliar to you. Don’t assume that an expert reader will be able to understand a description of a process that makes no sense to you. And do watch out for silly mistakes, such as an oven that gets preheated the night before the rest of the recipe happens. What work opportunities are there? In terms of the work you might be asked to do on craft or cookery titles, of course there is copy-editing and proofreading, as well as project managing. There is also plenty of work to be found if you can turn your hand to Americanizing or anglicizing text. Cookery and craft titles, as mentioned, frequently feature units of measurement, and converting these into a format acceptable for the US or UK market is a bit of a headache. This is where you come in. In this case, being prepared to work onscreen, in InDesign, can be a major benefit; publishers often make the UK or US edition of a book in a great hurry after the primary edition has gone into production. As well as the measurements, you’ll also need to adjust the grammar and vocabulary, of course. Both craft and cookery subjects feature a lot of jargon that is different in UK and US English (frying pan/skillet, coriander/cilantro, selvedge/selvage, double crochet/single crochet, cast off/bind off … etc.). There are many specialist publishers out there, and it’s worth approaching packagers, too, who often produce complex, highly illustrated titles for major publishers and can be a great source of freelance work. So … should I go for it? Craft in particular might not seem the most highbrow area of book publishing (let’s face it, no one is ever going to win the Man Booker Prize for a book about painting watercolour flowers), but it can be interesting, and reasonably well paid once you get used to the subject matter. You’re also fairly likely to work on books that you’ll later see in your local Waterstones, which can be a buzz in itself. Cookery and craft books are often gorgeously designed and produced, which is nice if you’re a bit of a book fetishist (aren’t we all?). You might even have the thrill of working on a high-profile title that receives lots of media attention – though in this case, don’t necessarily expect to be able to tell anyone about it. At the end of the day, you’re not helping to disseminate information that will one day bring about world peace, or a cure for some terrible disease. But you will have the satisfaction of knowing that the books you work on are helping to make a lot of people happy – or, if you mess up, extremely frustrated.
You don’t necessarily need to have a legal background to proofread law books. If you’re comfortable with often dense and highly complex material, huge numbers of footnotes, and lengthy citations – and the legalese doesn't scare you to death – then this could be the work for you!
The many faces of the law
The law covers just about every aspect of human life, so the books on offer tackle a multitude of subjects.
I’ve worked on legal books with a focus on public health, marine conservation, labour law, genetic resources, constitution building, piracy, family law, comparative law, European law, intellectual property rights, religion, climate change, competition law and cartelism, and environmental governance. Since I came to this work with a strong background in the social sciences, it suited me down to the ground. I’ve also been pleasantly surprised by the readability of most of the law books I’ve proofread. They’re often written by lawyers for lawyers (or by law professors for their colleagues and students) so you won’t be confronted by the impenetrable sea of words that often appear in legal documents. The authors aim to communicate with their readership just like any other writer. If you have experience of proofreading high-level academic books and journals, legal work shouldn’t present you with a problem. What are clients looking for?
Rather than making assumptions based on my own experience, I asked one of my publisher clients to tell me what she looks for in a legal proofreader. Here’s a summary of our discussion:
1. Citation styles Proofreaders need to be unafraid of (learning) complex legal citation styles, for example OSCOLA or Bluebook, as well as versions of these that have been adapted according to author preference. Just like any style guide (APA, Harvard, etc.), legal citation systems have their own peculiarities that may seem overly pedantic to those outside the profession. OSCOLA, for example, demands that, when citing a journal article, round brackets should be placed round the year of publication when a volume number is included, but square brackets employed when the volume number is omitted. Yes, part of your brain may want to shout, “Oh, please, there’s more to life than this!” but if you’re the sort of person who can’t shut that down and opt instead to put on your bracket-pedant’s hat, don’t proofread law books. 2. Attention to detail My client couldn't emphasise enough how absolutely crucial it is to attend to the detail. Law books contain a plethora of Latin terms – some that need to be italicised, some that don’t, some spelled out in full, some abbreviated. The books are always heavily referenced with primary and secondary book and journal sources and enough case law to make you feel like you could direct the next episode of Law & Order. All of this means there’s bound to be an extra chunk of incorrectly rendered names and document titles. Concordance software (such as TextSTAT) has come to my rescue more times that I care to mention. I always strip the content from the PDF of my proofs into a Word document and spend an hour checking a complete list of every word in the book, focusing on the proper nouns. It’s impossible (for me, anyway) to rely on my memory. 3. Recognition of house brief So, you've put on your pedant’s hat and got stuck into your legal citation style, wrapped your head around the author’s idiosyncrasies, and made sure all the cited authors’, judges’, defendants’ and plaintiffs’ names are spelled correctly. Just when you think you've got it licked, your client asks you to “only make changes that are necessary” in order to minimize typesetting costs at second-proof stage. This means you need to know when to amend, when to leave alone and when to query. It’s a tough one, and something that can arise when working on typeset page proofs in any subject area. With law, in my experience, it’s a little trickier because some things that you might let go in a politics book must be dealt with in a legal text. That’s just the way it is. My way round this is to build up a close working relationship with the in-house editor so that you really come to understand what’s important and what’s not. And the OSCOLA bracketing may be considered a must, whereas going for consistency with regards to text mentions of both “para” and “paragraph” may be determined by how close to each other the occurrences appear on the page. Your client may decide not to worry about them in one book but change them according to proximity in another. Common sense is critical, but so is talking to your client to make sure you know what they want every time you take on a new project. 4. Consistency, consistency, consistency Because of the density of legal texts, and the heavy level of citation, consistency is the thing that’s most likely to have slipped at writing and copy-editing stage. My client told me that ultimately this is what she’s looking for her proofreader to provide her with. Spelling, formatting, style – all of these have to be consistent so that the content of the book offers clarity to the reader. The subject matter can be highly complex, so the last thing the publisher wants to send to press is a book full of inconsistencies that may confuse rather than inform. Other points to bear in mind
Should you do this work?
Actually, none of the above issues is problematic as long as you have a good concentration span and you aren’t surrounded by distractions.
Distractions and proofreading don’t tend to go well together at any time, but with legal proofreading you may end up gnawing off your own arm if you don’t have the space to do the work without interruption. Working with law books is not unlike working with any other specialism (social science, STM, fiction) in that you need to be able to work within a framework of industry-recognized citation conventions, house style guides, and author preferences, while all the time employing a good old-fashioned dose of common sense. Talking to your client so that you understand what’s expected is crucial whatever kind of work you’re doing because only in that way will you understand the implications of your mark-up. When I was first approached with an offer to work in this field, I accepted it with some trepidation. A few years on, I could honestly say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Proofreading law books can be a rewarding and highly informative experience. As the world changes, so does the law. Globalization, public health awareness, climate change, and the birth of the internet have given rise to new dimensions within the law. Why not get paid to read about them? About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
Experimenting with new editing and proofreading markets is not just about bringing in the money; it’s also about opening yourself up to new opportunities and experiences.
Are you a creature of habit?
I’m a firm believer in not putting my eggs in one basket.
I’m also a creature of habit. There was a time when most the prospective clients who contacted me were similar to my onboarded clients: academic publishers. I knew this market well – I understood its language; I was familiar with its processes; and the expectations of what the work involved were understood by me and the presses for whom I worked. Taking on work in areas that were unfamiliar felt somewhat daunting. Questions that plagued me included:
And for a long time if felt easier to stay in my comfort zone, especially since I enjoyed the work. But every now and then it doesn’t hurt to take a punt. After all, the best-case scenario is that you find a new niche – another string to your editorial bow – while the worst-case scenario is simply that it doesn’t work out. And, really, what's wrong with that? A. What if the work doesn’t suit you?
The great thing about being a freelance business owner is that you can always close the relationship if things don’t work out as planned.
And even if your hoped-for long-term business relationship ends up being rather shorter than expected, you can still notch up the completed work to experience and use the knowledge you’ve gained to inform your future choices. So if the work doesn't suit you, no problem. At least now you know. B. You like the work but the financial return is much lower than expected
Perhaps you find it easy to estimate how much time work from your existing client base will take because it’s a market with which you're familiar. Quoting for work outside the field is far harder for all of us.
So, what if we make a mistake and seriously under-quote? One way to avoid this is to offer a trial rate that you’ll honour for the first few projects, but suggest the possibility of reviewing the fee structure a little further down the road once you’ve completed one or two pieces of work. If you haven’t gone for the trial option, and find that the work is taking much longer than expected (causing your hourly rate to plummet), don’t beat yourself up about it. Contact the client and explain the situation, stating that, of course, you’ll honour the original quote for the initial pieces of work supplied but that if the relationship is to continue you’ll need to review the price with them. In this situation it may be that the client decides they can’t afford your proposed new rate. That’s fair enough – at least the discussion is open and honest. Make sure you:
That way, your client will appreciate your professionalism and see that you’re not trying to rip them off. And even if things don't work out on the price front, you'll be able to close the door to each other on good terms. Of course, there's always the negotiated compromise. You can ask them to make their best offer and decide whether you can live with it. The experience you’re acquiring and your enjoyment of the projects might mean that you’re prepared to take a bit of a hit (though not one that makes you feel as if you are being exploited). Compromise isn’t for everyone, but it is an option. C. What if the work’s not what you expected?
So you thought you were proofreading but actually you’re editing.
Or you thought you were editing but actually you’re writing. Or perhaps you were expecting monthly projects of a couple of thousand words and you’ve ended up with a tome on your desk (or in your inbox). Ask yourself the following:
If the answer to (1) is no, then inform your client as soon as possible that the job’s not for you. That way they can find a replacement. If you’re okay with the work but the answer to (2) is negative, then you need to take the same action – tell the client that you’re sincerely sorry but you don’t feel the job is within your skill set; or, if it is but the deadlines are unmanageable, give them the heads-up immediately. In the latter case you may be able to set up new arrangements whereby the time frames are workable. If you still want the work and you’re fit for purpose, but you’re unhappy with the rate (3), it’s time to have the open and honest conversation outlined in section B, above. Many an editorial freelancer has been surprised at how receptive clients can be to procedural or rate reviews as long as the conversation is timely, polite and expressed in a way that acknowledges their needs. If your work is of high quality, your client may just bend over backwards to make the relationship work. 2026 update: The punt I took, and where it led
Back in 2014, one of my social science publisher clients referred me to her production manager friend who worked for a trade publisher. It's how I got offered my first ever fiction proofreading gig. I asked myself all those questions about capability, price and time.
Self-doubt tapped me on the shoulder. Impostor syndrome whispered in my ear. I took the job anyway because it was an amazing opportunity. I decided I didn't care if the fee ended up being rubbish ... the book I was being offered by a big-name author would look so good in my portfolio that I couldn't pass up the chance. In other words, I took a punt. And that punt led to more fiction proofreading work from publishers. And that led to more fiction editing work with indie authors. And that led to me editing only fiction. Until that led me to specializing in only one particular genre of fiction. Now that's all I do – stylistic line editing for indie authors writing crime fiction, mysteries and thrillers. A punt evolved into a purpose. A chance evolved into a choice. I don't just line edit this genre; I teach others how to, with my books and courses. And that chance diversification has become a niche specialism that's at the heart of my brand identity. Summing up
Taking a punt brings up all sorts of unexpected pleasures, but sometimes a little pain, too. Good communication framed by honesty and immediacy will make the journey less bumpy.
Whatever happens, as an editorial colleague once told me, 'There’s no point in getting one’s knickers in a knot over it. You win some and you lose some in this gig!' If you love what you're doing, great. But if something comes your way that feels like it might be interesting but you're holding back because it feels risky, consider whether it's worth a punt. You never know where it might take you. About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
Louise Bolotin explains how, when it comes to editing financial texts, it helps if you have a grasp of basic arithmetic, but it’s not essential. Understanding context is far more important ...
Maths is not my strong point
I’ll be the first to admit that maths is not my strong point. I can tot up a Scrabble score in my head and divide a restaurant bill between four friends, but I only scraped a C in my O-level maths (without a calculator, my grade would have been far lower) and I regularly joke about needing to take my socks off to count past 20.
Numerate I am not. Yet, for the past 12 years I have built up a flourishing specialism editing financial books and reports for a range of clients, from publishing houses to investment banks. I was already an experienced copy-editor when I took a job at a major investment bank in the Netherlands. I was appointed for my editing skills, of course, and hadn’t the first idea about banking beyond my lay knowledge as a high street bank customer. Was I nervous?
Was I nervous? Understatement. Colleagues in the editing team checked over my work during my first week on the job, but couldn’t save me from errors such as mistaking “flattening” for “flattering” when talking about financial results (the first means the figures are down, the latter up).
Who knew one letter could paint such a massively different picture of a company’s financial health? In my favour, I managed not to move any decimal points in the actual numbers, which could have had a disastrous effect on a company’s share price. After that, I was on my own – part of a team but expected to be able to handle the work without being nannied. Learning how to calculate equity value
My boss sent me on a training course – I spent five days alongside a dozen City whizz-kids (all male) learning how to calculate the equity value of a company (that’s basically the share price to you, dear reader) – but by then I’d already been in the job five months.
I finished the course unable to complete those vital calculations (did I mention I’m innumerate?) but what the training did do was give me a very deep understanding of the context and I left with the skill of being able to cast a swift eye over a profit and loss sheet and spot any glaring errors. If I’m honest, I was finally able to understand it. In short, the course knocked off the last rough edges. Understanding the topic is what matters
Most financial editing is not figures but text, of course, and as with any other subject a solid understanding of the topic is what matters.
It doesn’t matter too much if you can’t calculate the equity value of a company – what does matter is understanding what equity is (the value of an asset after any debt attached to it is paid off) and what it means to the intended readership. Thus, knowing that return on equity (ROE) is basically how much profit or dividend an investor will earn from their shares in a given financial period and why it differs from return on investment (ROI, a metric used to calculate how efficient an investment is, i.e. is the investment delivering gains) or return on assets (ROA, an indicator of how profitable a company is relative to its total assets) is critical. As another example, it pays to know the difference between ROE and ROCE, the latter standing for return on capital employed, which is a ratio that indicates the efficiency and profitability of a company's capital investments. Finance has its own language
As you can see, finance, like many other specialist topics, has its own language.
There are a lot of acronyms that need to be learned and understood, not to mention some very arcane jargon. Even I struggle to remember exactly what a “dead cat bounce” is (a small, temporary recovery in a declining share price), and don’t ask me why it’s called that as I haven’t the foggiest. Understanding how capital works and the above-mentioned concepts and their ilk is probably more important than the actual numbers. You can suggest, but you can’t promise
With investment banking, which is my specialism, there are never any guarantees and nothing is predictable.
You can suggest, but you can’t promise. So if your author writes, “when tomorrow’s results are announced the share price will go up” your job is to change it to, “when tomorrow’s results are announced the share price is expected to rise”. Every single sentence has to be scrutinized for such claims – the only thing you can leave intact are facts, as they are historical: “when the results were announced, the share price immediately rose to $10”. Context is everything and vagueness is a no-no
Finance is a global industry so you can never not edit such things as “last year”, “in the autumn”, “at 8am”, etc.
Context is everything and vagueness is a no-no, so I would change such things to “2011”, “in the period October–December” and “0800 CET” so they are factual and can be easily understood by an international readership. Oh, and another thing – it’s rare to see something like $10 as many countries use a dollar as their currency, so it’s important to specify if you mean US$10, A$10 or CAD$10 … Understanding financial regulation
Also important is an understanding of financial regulation. All countries have regulatory bodies that determine the rules for financial institutions and it’s essential to have a basic knowledge of the regulatory arena as this will affect how you edit.
For several years I edited daily equity reports for an overseas bank that was trading shares on the London Stock Exchange for its investment clients. As its sole UK editor, I was the thin blue line that ensured my client’s reports did not breach the Financial Services Authority’s rules on financial reporting. That’s a lot of scary responsibility – I was under daily pressure not to screw up this aspect because of the terrible consequences it would trigger. The thorny issue of ethics
Regulation also covers the thorny issue of ethics if you edit anything to do with investments. Insider trading is against the law everywhere and carries severe penalties – staff editors work inside a “Chinese wall” that separates them from the company’s traders and have to sign non-disclosure agreements as well as an employment contract when starting work.
Staffers are also not permitted to buy or sell investments without their employer’s approval. As a freelance, it’s on your honour to abide by the same rules. Thus I have strict personal rules.
Finance is a wide field
Finance is a wide field and not all areas of it will suit everyone working in it – I briefly
took on some freelance work editing blue-chip accountancy reports and while it was not a total disaster, it wasn’t a good match for my knowledge or skills. I decided to stick to banking. If your background is financial and you’re thinking of moving into editing or proofreading, you’ll have a good basis for a career once you’ve acquired the editorial skills. If, like me, you come into the field without background knowledge, training in finance is pretty much essential – get some in-house experience if you can, or find a course that will give you a short, intense introduction to the subject. Then buy a good specialist dictionary or two – I have around half a dozen myself and even after 12 years I still use them regularly. Editing finance materials is not boring
As someone who’s pretty rubbish with numbers, I was surprised to discover how much I absolutely love editing financial stuff. It’s the sheer variety of it.
When I’m editing equities, I’ll be working with copy written about all kinds of industries and sectors from steel and coal to retail via pharmaceuticals and the stock-exchange listed companies that produce or sell such things (in the process learning huge amounts of interesting things that I’d probably never have got round to looking up in a library). I get offered book editing work that ranges from hedge fund strategies to Islamic banking principles via risk management for insurance companies. A lot of people’s eyes glaze over at the mention of finance, expecting it to be boring, but it’s not – when money makes the world go round it makes sense to be interested in it and to find it interesting. Picking up the skills to edit or proofread the mountain of words written about it is just the next step. Anna Sharman discusses her work with academic agencies.  Note from LouiseThis article was written back in 2012 by my colleague Anna Sharman. For those of you looking for other avenues to explore in a bid to build up your work flows and client portfolios, especially if you have a scientific background, this is a must-read. Anna now runs her own dedicated scientific editorial consultancy, Cofactor, but back in 2012 she worked for a number of editing agencies. Over to Anna ... What do I do? I am a copyeditor and proofreader specializing in biomedical journal articles. As well as working for journals on articles that have been accepted, I also work with scientists to get their articles ready for submission to journals. Some of this work comes through editing agencies. I got into this field through doing a PhD and postdoctoral research in developmental/evolutionary biology and then working as an in-house editor on three biology journals. I went freelance in 2005. What are editing agencies? Academic editing agencies act as a bridge between freelance editors and authors. Authors who want to have a paper edited can find it hard to know which of the many editors out there are any good. For freelance editors, working directly for authors can be hard because each author will only have a small number of papers a year. So agencies have sprung up to help authors find editors and vice versa. Generally, these agencies offer editing of the language. Some also offer developmental editing: a report on the content of the manuscript, with suggestions on any obvious gaps in the logic or areas that are unclear. Academic editing agencies have probably been around for a long time, but I think they have increased in number in recent years. They have arisen in response to pressure from journals for well written manuscripts. Journals are generally happy to consider manuscripts that have minor errors or that don't read as if they were written by a fluent English speaker. However, if a manuscript is so badly written that peer reviewers cannot work out what experiments are being described, the journal cannot reasonably send it for peer review without further work. In addition, journals are always trying to cut costs, and freelance editors (unfortunately) are seen as expensive. Manuscripts that do get through peer review generally still need copyediting, to ensure that they make sense, use consistent terminology and symbols and are in good English. To cut down on copyediting costs, some publishers are asking authors to get their articles edited at their own expense. The expansion of editing agencies is also the result of an enormous expansion of science in China and other Asian countries. Although many non-fluent researchers ask fluent English-speaking colleagues to check their work, in most Asian institutes there are not enough fluent speakers to check all the papers being produced. In addition, Chinese academics are often rewarded financially for publications in English-language journals, which means that it can make sense to pay for editing to make this more likely. Some publishers have now entered into partnerships with editing agencies. This means that if a manuscript is rejected because of language problems, or if revision is invited after peer review but language problems have been mentioned by the reviewers, the journal suggests that the authors get their manuscript checked by a fluent speaker, and sometimes recommends a particular editing agency. Sometimes authors from that journal publisher receive a discount on the agency's fees. Other publishers list a selection of agencies, without recommending one in particular, in their instructions for authors (see, for example, this list from Public Library of Science and this list from Wiley). And some publishers have set up their own editing services (such as Elsevier and Nature Publishing Group). What's distinctive about working for editing agencies? I enjoy working for editing agencies for several reasons. In general, this kind of work has a lot of the advantages of working directly for authors but without many of the disadvantages. I prefer working on pre-submission research papers because I am seeing the research soon after it happens, rather than months or years later. I like helping people get their science published despite language barriers, contributing in a small way to levelling the playing field caused by the predominance of English in academic publishing. I also enjoy the challenge of working on a piece of writing at an early stage, because it means I can concentrate more on the meaning and less on fine points of formatting. When copyediting for journals, I spend a large proportion of my time applying house style, adjusting spacing, fonts, capitalization and other such minor style points. With pre-submission editing, I can ignore most of that and concentrate on working out what the author is trying to say and how to make the meaning clearer. Developmental editing gets even closer to the science and further from the stylistic details. Like working for publishers, however, working for an agency has the advantage that if the author disagrees with you on any change, the agency can arbitrate. And, as I mentioned above, agencies can channel a steady stream of papers your way, from many authors, saving the time and effort needed for marketing your services to a lot of different universities and institutes. When you work for researchers, whether directly or through an agency, bear in mind that they often work weekends and through holidays, and that weekends and holidays differ between countries. The agencies I work for all give deadlines in calendar days not working days, and if I want to have weekends off I have to specify this. Generally you can specify which days of the week you normally work and inform them when you will be on holiday, and they send work only when you are available. You have to remember to tell the agency about public holidays in your country – they won't necessarily know about them automatically. What are clients looking for? Academic agencies generally want editors who have experience in academia in the right field, which generally means a PhD and some published research. Some of them also want qualifications, training and/or experience in editing, though others do not – some even recruit active scientists who want to earn a little on the side. The agencies I work for, however, want experienced editors. There is nearly always an editing test, at least for big agencies, to check whether you can cope with the kind of editing required. This will test not only what changes you make but also how you word your queries to the author (of which there will be a lot). How to access the field If you search online you will find lots of academic editing agencies, and many of them are looking out for qualified editors with PhDs all the time. I have heard, however, that some of them pay pretty badly, and of course it is always important to check out a potential client with whom you hope to have an ongoing working relationship. So how do you find reliable ones to start working for? The best way is to go via the publishers, particularly any publishers you are already working for. Check in their online instructions to authors for agencies that they recommend. Then send a speculative email to an agency, giving a brief summary of your qualifications and experience. The chances are that you will be given an editing test (which will probably be unpaid). Then, if you are accepted as one of their editors, there may be a period of training when your editing will be checked carefully and the rate of pay may be lower. If you fail the test, consider any feedback carefully but don't worry too much about not being good enough. It could be that your style of editing simply doesn't fit what the agency is looking for. Try another and don't give up unless you have taken several tests. Alternatively, this kind of editing might not be for you (see below). What’s the pay like? Agencies generally pay by number of words rather than by the hour. This means that it is difficult to work out how much you will get per hour, and that the hourly rate can sometimes work out low and sometimes high. I prefer working for a fixed fee as I tend to be quite a fast worker and enjoy finding ways to work more efficiently. Because they are acting as intermediaries, agencies always take a cut of the fee that the author pays them. Working directly for the author would therefore pay more, in theory – but only if you can do enough marketing to get as much work as you would get through an agency. When trying out a new agency, check the pay rate per thousand words (this will either be supplied when you enquire or be published on the agency's website). Then try to work out the speed at which you can edit this kind of material. If you are more used to editing accepted papers, assume this kind of work will be considerably slower. I suggest giving an agency a try for a few months to see whether the rates work out OK for you. Some agencies pay very quickly after each job is completed; others pay two months or more later. Watch out for international bank charges, too – charges can be levied by intermediate banks that aren't in the control of either the sender's or the recipient's bank. Bear this in mind when working out whether the fees are worthwhile. Is this kind of editing for you? Editing material by authors whose English is limited isn't for everyone. You may prefer to work on manuscripts at a later stage, when they have already been approved by a publisher. You may not know whether you enjoy this kind of work until you try it. But if you have a research background and some editing experience, I'd recommend it for the challenge. And if you want to work with pre-submission papers, going through an agency has definite advantages. Copyright 2012 Anna Sharman
Working with adult material (pornography and erotica) is clearly not for everyone, and it can occasionally be challenging, but it requires the same care and thought as anything else on the editor’s work pile.
My guest this time is editor and journalist Louise Bolotin. Here, she offers an editor’s guide to sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll, with a bit of blasphemy thrown in for good measure. Over to Louise ...
What’s your first thought?
What’s your first thought when an author offers you work that is quite clearly what’s usually described as 'adult material'?
Do you think, 'Eww, how disgusting!' and reply with a 'Thanks, but no thanks'? Or do you, like me, say yes because, you know, it’s just work and there’ll be a nice cheque at the end of it? Hovering around as I do on professional forums, on the rare occasions the topic comes up it’s clear that most editors fall into the 'no way!' camp. It’s a personal choice
Working on anything explicitly sexual is always going to be a personal choice, although there’s a world of difference between editing a sex guide aimed at teens, with info on STIs and using condoms correctly, and hardcore or even medium-core erotica, the latter being the kind of material I’m most likely to work on in the genre. I’ve yet to be offered any Mills and Boon titles.
I’ve often found that when I’ve been approached to take on projects, it’s been accompanied with an apology and a warning of the content, particularly from large, well-known publishing houses. Most memorably, an email I received offering work came complete with a chain of internal emails below the line, suggesting that the project should probably be given to a man as it was potentially offensive. Heaven forfend that a woman should edit anything explicit because we all know how difficult it is to buy smelling salts these days! I assured the project manager that I’m neither prudish nor easily offended and the manuscript was duly sent to me. Editing strong language doesn’t bother me at all. I cut my career teeth as a journalist and newsrooms are renowned for their high swear word count – you won’t survive if you can’t cope with your editor telling you several times a day to 'get your fucking act tofuckinggether or get your fucking P45 on the fucking way out'. There’s more to editing explicit work than not fainting
However, there’s more to editing explicit work than not fainting at any effing and blinding in print.
Material needs to be handled sensitively, whether it’s fiction or factual – this is someone’s work, after all, and it’s essential to put personal feelings aside. All the usual editing decisions need to be made – clarity, consistency, cutting and queries, plus creating style sheets for those trickier spellings. I worked five years as a freelance copy-editor and commissioner for the fetish magazine Skin Two, aimed at people into rubber sex and clothing. While the photo spreads tend towards the erotic and daring, most of the feature articles are distinctly intellectual in tone rather than sexy – during my stint we ran serious articles on everything from censorship and depictions of non-mainstream sex in mainstream film to the subversion of Nazi symbolism for erotic enjoyment and the works of illustrative authors such as Alan Moore. These features were usually between 3,000 and 5,000 words in length and on a par with anything you’d find in a dedicated arts magazine. Flicking through back issues, it was clear my first task would be to create a style book suitable for such a distinctive magazine. I recall lengthy discussions with the editor about whether to opt for 'perv' rather than 'perve' or 'pervert' – our readership, chiefly A, B and C1, liked to call themselves thus with a knowing and cheeky nod to the more tabloid usage of such words. The style guide needed to reflect both their intelligence and their community’s own home-grown terminology. Putting it together was an interesting crash course in the culture of a distinct sexual minority. Perhaps the most memorable title I worked on was Jack the Ripper’s Secret Confession, one book in a long line of theories on the true identity of the UK’s first known serial killer. I’ve worked on several Ripper books and as an avid reader of crime fiction I’m used to gore. This particular book theorised that the Ripper was a wealthy Victorian gentleman known only as Walter, a rapist who was obsessed with prostitutes and knives. His deeply explicit diaries were published in the same year as the Ripper began his spree. Fewer than 20 copies were printed, they were banned for obscenity and the few surviving editions even today remain locked in the British Library’s famous 'closed cupboard', where scholars need to apply for permission to study them. The diaries are, of course, out of copyright so the book authors were free to quote as much of them as they wished to stand up their theory – and quote they did. Whole chapters often consisted of fifty per cent or even more of passages from Walter’s pornographic journal. Every sexual encounter of his was described in explicit four-letter word detail. I quickly became desensitised to the repetitive use of 'fuck', 'cunt', 'cock', 'minge' and more on almost every page. Even so-called filth needs editing
The temptation when this occurs is to glaze over the explicit passages and focus on the author’s own words. A bad mistake, as even so-called filth needs editing.
I made an editorial decision to leave all spellings in the original (and being Victorian, they varied a fair bit from the standard spellings of today) as long as they were understandable, but to edit the punctuation rigorously for clarity. Walter didn’t care much for commas or speech marks, you see, and some of his passages required extensive scrutiny to figure out what on earth he was saying. These were highly challenging issues for a book that not only needed to be accessible for the modern reader and ensure the authors’ edited work was of sufficient merit as any other Ripperology title but also paid tribute, bizarre as it might seem, to the diaries the book had inspired. I was secretly rather chuffed when one of the authors emailed me after publication to thank me and let me know that the Los Angeles Times had described it as a 'hyperventilating noxious stew wallowing in depravity' and called for it to be banned. At least it was a well-edited noxious stew ... The challenging stuff ...
In truth, I found an earlier manuscript I worked on, about Jack the Ripper and other notorious serial killers throughout history, much harder.
There was little sexually explicit material but a very graphic description of what one murderer had done with his victims’ body parts burned my eyeballs and gave me sleepless nights for some time after. Sometimes you edit stuff you’d rather not know about, but like the intrepid blokes who clean our sewers it’s a dirty job but someone has to do it. With pride for doing a job well done. And, frankly, my trauma must have paled in comparison to that of the police officers who had to deal with that. It’s not for everyone
More recently I copy-edited a debut novel from a youngish author – a blackly comic yet highly literary tale about the Norwegian heavy metal music scene, rippled through with wall-to-wall blasphemy and explicit sex scenes that were nasty, brutish and (thankfully!) short.
Having begun my career as a rock journalist, this project was one of the most enjoyable I’ve ever been offered but, like the others, it came with a warning – about the blasphemy in this case. I’m an atheist so I was able to approach this with no misgivings but I completely understand that an editor with a faith, of any sort, might find this difficult material. The explicit sex I took in my stride but dealing with the religious issues, which were as much about Satanism as Christianity, needed a lot of care to ensure that the novel rang true while avoiding causing offence unnecessarily. I did a huge amount of fact-checking on the internet – mainly on the Christian issues plus the heavy metal genre – as well as coming up with a style sheet that provided consistency on religious and other central themes. Can you do it?
My take on editing adult material is that it really shouldn’t be beyond any experienced copy-editor worth their salt although I can understand that some will feel it’s not for them because of their personal beliefs, as is their right.
Such work needs the same meticulous attention to detail as any other. For those new to the industry it could be as good a way to gain experience as any, particularly as there seems to be a dearth among us who are willing to tackle the more challenging manuscripts. Ian Dury sang 'sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll, is all my brain and body needs' – I like to think they are an important sector in the manuscripts I edit, too. Copyright 2012 Louise Bolotin Find out more about proofreading for trade fiction publishers, including fees, scope and getting work.  Update from LouiseThis article was written in 2012. While I now line edit exclusively for indie authors, I'm confident that what I share below about my experience back in the day still stands. Trade proofreading experienceMy trade fiction proofreads include Pulitzer Prize-winning Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad, The Mammoth Book of SF Wars (edited by Ian Watson and Ian Whates), two novels by crime novelist Diane Janes, The Pull of the Moon and Why Don’t You Come for Me?, the new edition of Donn Pearce’s Cool Hand Luke, and Christopher Buckley’s satirical gem Little Green Men. Pan Books asked me to work on a new edition of The Rats. The first edition had been published way back in 1974 and it was James Herbert’s debut novel. It was an immediate hit that would sell millions in the nearly four decades that followed. The author died in 2013 and the new edition, with a foreword by Neil Gaiman, was published a year later. The medium in which I’m workingWhen working for trade publishers, the pages I'm checking at proof stage have usually been typeset and are just about ready for press. All the developmental work has been carried out; and the book has been copy-edited. My job is to focus on any final inconsistencies, spelling, grammar and punctuation errors that were missed at copy-editing stage, as well as layout problems that crept in during the typesetting process. Getting work with trade publishers Unless you have prior experience with this genre, either in-house or as a freelance, this can be a difficult field to access at the beginning of your career. It’s very competitive and most publishers tend to stick to proofreaders who have a background in the field and who don’t need hand-holding. Recommendation can play a huge part, as can luck. Nevertheless, perseverance might pay off so if this is something you really want to do, then you should have a go. The worst thing a prospective client can say is "no", but at least you'll have tried. Make sure you have a website Make sure you have a website and are advertising your fiction proofreading services. Even publishers want to be able to verify a freelance proofreader's credentials and business legitimacy. Get experience with small, independent presses If you don't have any experience, consider offering to do some gratis work for small, independent presses who can't afford to buy in editorial services. Target publishers who publish fiction and non-fiction If you already have some professional proofreading experience and want to target paying publisher clients, consider focusing on those who publish both fiction and non-fiction. You may find it easier to get work on their non-fiction lists first. Then, once you have in-house contacts, the transition to fiction will be easier. Be sure to check on their websites first to ensure you have the necessary qualifications. Some publishers’ sites make it clear that it’s a waste of time contacting them as they have an established bank of freelancers. Others have particular requirements in terms of experience and training. Who to contact The titles of the people you need to contact vary from publisher to publisher but include:
A quick telephone call to the company should clarify who you need to target for each of your prospective clients. My strategy (with any publisher, trade or otherwise) is to contact this person with an initial email and then follow up with a covering letter and CV (so that they have something to hold on file). Get transferable experience and testimonials with indie authors You might find it easier to get fiction proofreading work with indie authors if you're prepared to make market yourself and build your visibility. That can lead to testimonials that provide social proof, and a more interesting portfolio, both of which will make a stronger impression on any trade publisher who visits your website. Tackling some of the peculiarities of fiction proofreading I find fiction proofreading much harder than social sciences academic proofreading – all the rules of grammar, punctuation and spelling can go out of the window and the layout of the text might appear unconventional. If you're used to working on professional or academic projects, the work may seem daunting and, in my experience, generates more head-scratching moments. Embracing breaks in convention Sometimes a writer will decide to do away with a particular convention. A good, though rare, example the omission of quotation marks – this decision may be, for example, because the author wants to keep their reader guessing as to whether their character is thinking something or is actually saying it. You may also come across the following:
Before you start the job, make sure you've understood whether there's anything unconventional about the fiction title you’re working on, and be prepared to leave well enough alone ... or make a temporary mark. Your publisher will be able to guide you on the decisions that have already been made as to how these elements should be treated. Author style Care needs to be taken when proofreading a fiction title so as not to interfere with the author’s style. This relates back to the issue of convention breaking. Yes, your author uses split infinitives and comma splices. You may not like them; you may think the sentences are clunky to read. But that may be their way, and it’s not necessarily the proofreader’s job to correct this – a judgement may have already been made by a copy-editor and in-house desk editor in discussion with the author. Again, you should leave well enough alone unless you're sure of what you are doing. Don’t spend too much time with your head in your hands, wondering whether to mark up. It's always better to query. If you see a similar problem cropping up repeatedly and you’re not comfortable with putting it down to "author style", call up the project manager. The brief Working for any publisher client (trade or otherwise) requires that you stick to the brief. Ask your in-house editor what they expect from you and how far they want you to intervene. You’ll probably be working on page proofs (more likely PDFs these days) so the degree to which you intervene will be determined by your client. Some want minimal correction at page-proof stage; others may wish you to be pedantic. Read first; proof later One tactic I find useful when I proofread fiction is simply to read two or three chapters before I do anything else. I’m not looking for problems; I’m simply getting a feel for the plot, the author’s voice, which characters are being introduced, and taking note of any unconventional styles I come across. This helps prevent the "head in hands" scenario. What to watch out forEnjoying the job too much One of the dangers of proofreading fiction is getting so wrapped up in the story that you end up reading the book rather than proofreading it. Force yourself to keep your pace steady rather than rushing ahead in an effort "to see what happens". Inconsistency Make a style sheet so that you’re clear about things you need to be checking. Characters’ names, and consistency in how they are spelled, are particularly important. Mistakes not only make the work look sloppy but also render the story confusing to the reader. One tactic if you're marking up a PDF is to strip the content into a text file and run word-frequency/concordance software or macros to generate a word list. You can scan the list for all proper names and see if there are inconsistencies. Style As with any proofreading project, regardless of genre, take care to adhere to the publisher’s preferences, for example:
Missing line spaces and other layout issues Watch out for changes of scene that are not indicated by line spaces. These breaks can easily get lost in the typesetting process and can make things very confusing for the reader. You may also be confronted with other aspects of unconventional layout, such as the way dialogue is displayed, some of which would ordinarily be considered non-standard. Always check with the client or mark up with a query. And don't forget to consider any implications for pagination. Dialogue Particular care needs to be given to the management of dialogue in fiction proofreads. One of the most common errors is missing closing speech marks around dialogue; another is misunderstanding how punctuation within speech marks is to be treated – this varies according to publisher style. Treatment of different types of speech Most clients will prefer to treat memories, dreams and thoughts differently from speech. Use of italics and the omission of speech marks are common in these cases, so be sure that you understand the conventions being used and mark up accordingly and consistently. A word of warning – Are you proofreading or editing? One of the trickiest things you may come across is that of being commissioned to “proofread” when actually you’re being expected to edit. Some trade publishers are doing away with the copy-editing stage of the process, or doing the editing in-house to save on the cost of a professional freelancer. The proofreader is not always aware of this. The result is that some proofs could arrive on your desk that are not of a standard you are used to working with. This presents potential problems from several angles. Perception of your role If you haven’t been told explicitly that the proof pages have not been copy-edited, you may end up making false assumptions about what's required of you. This can lead to under-marking in the belief that such a level of intervention is inappropriate at proofreading stage. Your client is expecting one level of service, while you're providing something different. Practical issues Proofreading badly written and unedited manuscripts that have already been typeset is a difficult task. There's less space on typeset pages in which to mark up. Where the proofs need heavy intervention, this can be problematic – while the focus should be on amending each problem as you find it, instead you could be drawn towards concentrating too much on how to manage the spatial issues. Take care not to miss obvious small errors because your attention's being pulled in another direction. Skillset Unless you're a trained copy-editor you may not have the skills to do the work the client wants – copy-editing and proofreading are different jobs and you may not feel you're up to the task. Fairness Even if you are a trained copy-editor, you may feel that you're being expected to do the job of an editor but for proofreading rates. If you find yourself in such a situation, contact the desk editor immediately and ask about the copy-editing work that was done on the manuscript. Try to get as much detail as you can on what's required at proofreading stage. Then make your decision as to whether you feel comfortable dealing with the work. This puts you in control and will prevent problems further down the line. What’s the pay like? Trade publishers tend to pay lower rates than their academic counterparts. The higher rates tend to be offered by science, technical and medical publishers, who often commission editors and proofreaders with relevant qualifications in the field. Fiction rarely requires the same degree of specialist knowledge at proofreading stage, aside from fiction conventions. Additionally, there are lots of people who want to proofread fiction. Trade publishing business models often make for slim margins, and the editorial service budgets reflect this. Having said this, I found the work hugely rewarding – it was a genuine pleasure to get up in the morning, knowing that you're being paid to proofread something you’d enjoy reading in your leisure time! About Louise HarnbyLouise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers. She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
Find out why changing your proofreading specialism or client type might mean learning knew skills or changing your approach.
The sector you know …
Here's an example from my own career.
When I worked for academic publishers I was strictly a proofreader. I'd done appropriate training and then targeted the market I knew best and in which I had experience based on my politics degree and my in-house work. Academic publishing companies have clear-cut editorial processes and the roles of development editor, copy-editor and proofreader are clearly defined. In this sector the briefs and levels of intervention vary from press to press, but the editorial process is the same, broadly speaking.
Rather, the proofreader's job is to check that the typesetter’s interpretation of the copy-editor’s work is correct, that the page layout is acceptable, and that any remaining typographical oddities, spelling, punctuation or grammar problems haven’t slipped through. There may be specific instructions from the client to leave well enough alone or pay attention to specific issues around house style, so the brief for each project will be something the proofreader has to pay careful attention to. In my experience, it was rare that I was faced with page proofs that required heavy intervention. That would indicate that something had gone seriously wrong earlier in the chain, and should be reflected in what the publisher is willing to pay me. Sectors you don’t know …
If you're used to working for a particular type of client (businesses, students, self-publishing authors, publishers), or in a specific subject field (STM, social sciences, fiction, company reports, theses), don’t assume that your clients’ processes, needs or expectations will be the same.
The term 'proofreading' means different things to different people. The chance to diversify is exciting, but proofreaders need to take care that they understand what the client expects. We owe it to our clients and we owe it to ourselves. Failure to do so can lead to a lot of head-scratching at best, and a dissatisfied client at worst. What to watch out for …
Below are examples I’ve encountered in requests for my 'proofreading' services over the years. Note how what's being asked for varies according to client type.
Below are examples I’ve encountered in requests for my 'proofreading' services over the years. Note how what's being asked for varies according to client type. PhD student: 'I need someone to proofread my media studies thesis … English is not my first language … my supervisor says I need some language editing some facts to be checked, too …'
Small independent academic press: '.., we're on a short deadline and haven't had time to compile the index. Would you be able to fit this in?'
Self-publishing author: 'I landed on your LinkedIn page and wondered if you would be free to proofread my book. I also need some advice on how the book reads and any feedback on the plot and characters … this is my first novel so I’d appreciate any help you can offer me.'
Trade publisher: 'Are you free to take on a commercial fiction proofread? … We like our proofreaders to be very interventionist … feel free to recast anything that seems clunky or in your opinion doesn’t work … Please also look out for plot holes and any inconsistencies in the timeline.'
Local business: 'We found your details online and see from your website that you have extensive experience of proofreading management and business titles … we need a 70-page internal report to be checked for grammar, punctuation and spelling mistakes. The report was compiled by eight individuals so we’re also keen to ensure consistency of the writing style …'
What should you do?
There may be times when it's tempting to:
And maybe you should. After all, you’ve secured this fabulous opportunity to diversify your client portfolio, perhaps in a sector that you’ve wanted to exploit but didn’t know how to access. Proofreading, indexing, copy-editing and development editing are not the same thing. And trade fiction publishers, academic presses, businesses, students and indie authors are not the same thing. The input is different, the output is different, the skills are different, the training is different, and the rates of pay are different. Some potential clients may understand this but be looking to get a different level of intervention at a bargain price. Others will simply be unaware of the distinct roles within editorial freelancing. Are you in control?
The rate of pay is not in my opinion the most pressing factor here. The most important issues are:
If you don't have the relevant skills, you could find yourself coming unstuck. You may not fulfil the client’s expectations. That they aren’t fulfilling yours is irrelevant because you’re no longer in control. You might do a good job, but you might not. You won’t know because you’re not a copy-editor/development editor/indexer. If you anticipate a problem before you receive the work, you can nip the issue in the bud. Explain your understanding of the various editorial roles clearly to the client and make it explicit what services you are prepared/able to offer. This will ensure there are no surprises at either end of the process. If the problem isn’t obvious until after you’ve received the proofs or early on in the job, and you don’t feel comfortable, say, copy-editing material you’ve been hired to proofread, spell this out to the client as a matter of urgency. Why? Because it puts you back in control. If you lose the work or the professional relationship comes to a close, it’s because you’ve decided to not work with the client, not the other way around. Wrapping up …
Diversifying your client portfolio and the types of work you're doing can be a very attractive proposition, particularly if
But beware of the fuzziness that can arise due to ignorance of the different editorial roles or a client’s cost-cutting. Ensure you have the relevant skills and a solid understanding of what is required for the sector you’re entering. Finding yourself out of your depth will hurt you as much as your client. About Louise Harnby
Louise Harnby is a line editor, copyeditor and proofreader who specializes in working with crime, mystery, suspense and thriller writers.
She is an Advanced Professional Member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) and co-hosts The Editing Podcast.
Kate Haigh, an editor and proofreader who works extensively with non-publisher clients, discusses working with businesses.
The kinds of material being edited
I'd like to start by highlighting that my experiences may differ significantly from other people’s as the scope of non-publishing work is so broad; different people may have different USPs or ways of approaching these clients.
On the whole, though, I tend to work on three main types of material:
Different clients tend to use me for different services. For example, I have one client for whom I solely proofread the website, whereas another regularly sends me reports but no web or advertising work. It means the work is very varied, which in my opinion is a bonus, and also means I learn a lot of random things. The type of editing
Some clients aren’t native speakers/writers so I edit quite heavily and am given free rein, while others just want me to tidy up documents and ensure consistency.
The lines are more blurred between proofreading and copy-editing, especially as almost all of the work is done on-screen – it doesn’t tend to have pagination issues or print deadlines in the same way that book or magazine work may have. I don’t have the same level of querying as I do for self-publishers or students; most business material is black and white with limited grey areas. I may query something occasionally but it’s usually a content issue; the client handles the query internally so I don’t deal with it any further. What a business client’s brief looks like
Again, the brief can depend on the client.
Some have style guides in place, others ask me to create one and then implement it, while others are only concerned with consistency in the one document I am working on at that time. On the whole, the brief is clear, though, and I know the level of input I can make, though I guess that comes with experience for each client. One client recently sent a document that was theoretically in the final print stage so we agreed I would only make essential amendments; in future I will see the work earlier and they want me to make stylistic changes and copy-edit the document as I see fit. I think overall the issue is more fluid, and definitely more so than with academic and non-fiction publishing, where there tend to be so many rules. For clients who are new to using a proofreader or editor, I can play a big role in shaping my job and their expectations, which I personally enjoy. However, if you’re keen to be told what to do or have a set function to follow, this type of work may not be quite so suitable. Marketing to businesses
I find that businesses with active marketing departments are often already aware of the benefits of proofreading but no longer have capacity in-house (horrible to admit but the recession served me well there), so they come looking or just need a tiny nudge to make them aware of my existence.
I got totally lucky with my first and most repeat client – I met a PA at a training event about writing copy for the web; she ended up giving me a lift home, took my card and passed it to the marketing manager. The rest, as they say, is history. Other companies looked for me, and thanks to my website, the CIEP directory entry and other online presence, I appear to be relatively easy to find. The best marketing I've actively done has been local networking. Some businesses have then found out about proofreading and asked me to work with them as they never even knew such people existed, while word-of-mouth from those events has served me brilliantly. It takes time to reap rewards with networking, at least it did for me, but has been invaluable in the longer term. It’s the face-to-face element that works, and the rapport you build over regular breakfast meetings at some ungodly hour. On the whole, I don’t think the clients I met at networks would have responded to a cold call/email but over time they get to know you and trust you – that’s what leads to the work. I also think that for business clients, a website is essential, not just for enabling people to find you but also for adding integrity and a professional look. Unfortunately there are a lot of people who claim to be proofreaders when perhaps they’re not qualified for the job, so having a website with information about you, testimonials, contact details, etc. really helps a client to relate. I guess that links in with the face-to-face element of networking. Rates of pay
For business clients, my rates are almost never lower than the CIEP suggested minimum rates, so in itself that possibly makes it more lucrative than the publishing industry.
I think awareness of other proofreaders is lower in the corporate world and this works in my favour. When a company has decided they have the funds and the need for a proofreader, I think they value that service highly. Also, they get used to working with you, your style, and the way you interact, so they’re less worried about squeezing every penny compared with publishers, or at least that’s my perception. I have one or two clients who pay quite a bit more due to the heavy editing/re-writing element, or other functions. Kate’s top tip for working for business clients
Ultimately, I think people need to make a positive choice to work in business proofreading rather than seeing it as a fall-back option.
I like the commercial world and what it encompasses, and find working on the associated content interesting. If, however, people are doing it because they can't get work in their chosen field, it could be very boring. This would make the job less fulfilling and the resulting loss of focus could lead to an increased error rate. Sorry if this sounds dogmatic, but it's something I feel very strongly about; being able to really focus on your clients’ materials and their particular needs is important, whichever area you’re working in. About Kate Haigh
Kate is a professional proofreader and owner of Kateproof. Feel free to follow her on Twitter at @Kateproof or link with her via LinkedIn.
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