How to Self-Edit Like a Pro

No matter how experienced of a writer you are, editing your own work can be a challenge. But these seven seriously valuable tips will help you get your stories into tip-top shape.

Illustration by Genevieve Ashley/Narratively archive | Story edited by Jesse Sposato

Recently, a colleague of mine texted to ask if I could recommend any useful books on self-editing. While there are shelves and shelves of books on the craft of writing — inspirational, practical and pedantic — I could only think of the old standby when it came to editing: Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style. But that book, as useful as it can be, is not really a how-to for editing. It’s a resource with helpful reminders about grammar and aphorisms about writing short, clear sentences. Yet it doesn’t help if one is trying to “train” oneself as an editor, this task that so many of us do but proves difficult to explain or teach.

Over the past two decades, I’ve had various roles at various publications with titles like managing editor, deputy editor, editor in chief, digital editor; I’ve also taught writing classes for more than 10 years. One thing I’ve learned from all of this is that editing can appear subjective, since I may interpret the “rules” differently than another person. Ask three editors their opinion about the placement of a comma or an em-dash, an introductory clause or the use of a gerund, and you’ll probably get three very different responses. I love the nerdy arguments I’ve had with folks about passive voice and why that dependent clause is just plain wrong. That doesn’t mean it’s all completely willy-nilly. These decisions are born out of a practice and all good editors share a common agenda: to get the writing to as close to good as possible.

These days, most of us are left without the safety net of an editor and have to rely on our own devices to get our work in the best shape possible. While it may feel liberating to be our own editors, it can also prove difficult to know where to start or how to do that when you’re so close to a piece. Between all my years editing magazines and teaching writing classes, I’ve tried to codify many of the editing lessons I’ve gleaned over the years. Here are a few that I often turn to when I’m working with a variety of writers that I think others could use as they work on their own pieces, really interrogating them with the reader — not just themselves — in mind. (And if you’re thinking of submitting to Narratively’s 2024 Memoir Prize but have been putting off that last edit, these tips will surely help!)

Don’t Be Scared of Outlines

Basically, there are two types of writers: those who map out their plan before they begin and those who just dive right in. Writers tend to equate plunging with speed. They say things like, “I didn’t have time, so I had to just plunge in and write it.” But planning in an emergency saves time, because it eliminates false starts — it’s the same thing with writing. Plungers (some use the term “pantser,” because they are doing the action by the “seat of their pants”) also may spend time writing and revising parts they don’t include in the finished story. Even if you prefer to take the plunge, try mapping out at least some of your ideas so you’re not just fumbling around and wallowing in so much “stuff” you get stuck. The thing is, after you finish a draft, you can even then do an outline to figure out your structure and it can help you with editing your next draft.

Pro tip: Most editors, teachers and coaches are planners to an extent, so they find fellow planners easier to work with. But figuring out what type of organizational style you are as a writer can help you with the editing process no matter what.

Go Ahead and Clear Your Throat

This is probably the most common thing I see in all writing no matter the experience level. You had an idea and needed to start somewhere so you vomited a lot of stuff on the page. Good, you had a lot to get out of your system, you needed to get it out — now get rid of it. It’s difficult to cut the precious words that you just wrote, but your piece may actually begin in the third paragraph, when you finished pontificating and summarizing and explaining. Spit it out and start fresh.

Confession: In fact, I worked through the same process when writing this piece. Originally, I employed a long discursive anecdote and some other experiential examples to open this piece. Luckily, I had Jesse Sposato as an editor, who suggested I scrap it all so we could get to the meat of this essay quicker. See? It happens to all of us! (And would I have gotten there eventually without an outside editor, you might be wondering? Probably! It just might have taken an extra minute.)