Editorial Notes = clarifying information, additional insight, annotations

Hiya Reader,

New goal level unlocked:

​Books, time, writing space, Paris, and all social media/publicity prohibited! ​

Close your eyes and picture it: waking up in Paris, spending your days writing and reading, following in the footsteps of Ginsberg, Baldwin, and Hemingway. Will one of you be one of the lucky 20 this year?

Think a friend would appreciate Editorial Notes?

Send them this link to sign up:

(And if you’re the appreciative friend, you can subscribe at the same link.)

Example of the Week

Sometimes this is a good example—or a great one. Sometimes this is a bad example—or just a funny blooper. Sometimes a combination. You never know.

Spotted on the Internet.

I would argue it's the lack of clarity, not the language at fault.

Actionable Tip of the Week

A trick to add to your self-editing toolbox right now!

Longtime readers know I say this a lot. But that's because we all need to hear it a lot.

Get distance on your drafts before you do any editing beyond typos or grammar fixes.

I don't mean set it aside for twenty years while you pursue a career in lion taming or chartered accountancy. I mean this: when you finish a draft — chapter, essay, blog post, query letter, whatever — you are the worst possible person to edit it right now. Your brain will read what it meant to say, not what it actually said. You will miss your own nonsense every single time, and you will do so with supreme confidence.

The fix is distance. Deliberate, non-negotiable distance.

OK, but for how long?

Longer than you think. For a short piece, at least a full day or two. For a chapter, a week if you can manage it. For a full manuscript, we're talking a month, minimum. I know. I know. The deadline, the launch date, the impatience. I'm not unsympathetic. But I am inflexible on this point, because I've seen what happens when writers don't do it — and I've read those manuscripts.

The distance lets you become someone else's reader. Not you as author — you as audience. That shift is everything. Suddenly the sentence that felt so elegant reveals itself to be a bunch of $4 words doing a $1 job, or vice versa. The transition you were so proud of turns out to be a non sequitur wearing a blazer. The joke that seemed hilarious at 11 p.m. is now a liability.

This is not failure. This is the process working correctly.

OK, but what am I supposed to do in the meantime?

Start something else. Read someone else's work. Take a walk. Do not sneak back in to "just check one thing." You will not just check one thing. You will sit down, start tinkering, and lose the very distance you were trying to create.

The manuscript will be there when you get back. It's not going anywhere. I promise!

Distance doesn't just help you see the problems. It helps you see what's actually working — which, if you're anything like most writers I know, you dramatically underestimate when you're too close to the page. Cold eyes catch errors, yes. But they also recognize the good stuff more clearly, and in some ways, that's the most fruitful part of growing your self-editing skills.

Walk away. Come back fresh.

Reader Question of the Week

Sandra wrote: I am a relatively new self- published author, and I am looking for advice on acquiring reliable ARC readers.

Sandra! Great question, largely because the word "reliable" is doing a lot of heavy lifting here.

Here's the straight talk: you're not looking for readers who will love your book. You're looking for readers who will show up — read the thing, post a review on or near launch day, and do it again next time. Those are not always the same people.

Start close to home. Genre-specific Facebook groups, subreddits like r/YourGenreHere, and platforms like NetGalley, BookSirens, or StoryOrigin exist precisely for this.

Be very, very, VERY (did I say very?) specific in your request. That means: the genre, the word count, the content warnings if applicable, the format you're offering (epub, mobi, PDF), and the exact review deadline. Not "sometime around launch." A date. Vague asks get vague results — and vague reviewers.

Before you send a single ARC, ask candidates two things: have they reviewed ARCs before, and can they commit to your specific deadline? Anyone who hedges on either question is telling you something. Believe them.

Consider building in a check-in midway through your ARC window. A simple "just checking in — any questions about the book?" does double duty: it's courteous, and it quietly separates the people who've actually started reading from those who've already forgotten they signed up.

Your list will shrink before it grows. Some people will ghost you. Stop reinviting them. The readers who come through consistently? Treat them like gold.

Want to Submit a Reader Question to Helene?

Give in to the urge.

Link of the Week

​This came across my desk recently, a great piece that imagines our most fertile creative time as a melting ice cube we should protect.

I ❤️ Hearing from You!

Comments? Just reply to this email or click this link. I respond to every email—that's a promise.

Thanks for reading!

~Helene, your writing sherpa