How to Write Yourself an Edit Letter

Approaching your book as a reader rather than the author helps separate you from the emotional experience of putting your work on the page.

Dear Lyz,

First off let me say, there is so much good stuff in this draft. As always, your writing sparkles in its specificity, and I enjoyed the time I spent with these characters. Below are some questions I had as I read through, along with suggestions for how you can tighten and streamline the story so it really shines. Also, your hair looks incredible today.

The above excerpt is from an edit letter—a written breakdown of a reader’s editorial revision suggestions on a book or manuscript. This kind of letter is typically written by a literary agent or editor at a publishing house. It is not typically, as is the above, written by the writer to themselves. But making this addition to my revision process has seriously levelled up my writing. Now, I never write a book draft without writing myself an edit letter.

In 2020 I’d just finished a third draft of Sugarhigh, a coming-of-age adult suspense novel about runaways, influencers, and murder. I knew I was supposed to query agents to gauge their interest in representing me, but needed to revise the manuscript beforehand and I was a mess when it came to approaching the revision process. A writer friend suggested I enter Pitch Wars, a competitive mentorship program where writers are paired with published authors to whip their books into shape in time for an agent showcase. I was chosen for the program (shoutout to my mentors, P.J. Vernon and Kelly J. Ford) and, after a bout of excited screaming, I received my very first edit letter. That was when shit got real.

It’s one thing to create a story in your head and write 85,000 words of it, which is what I’d done up until that point. It’s a whole other thing to receive the expert feedback of well, experts. At that time, I hadn’t even read many craft books—I was simply a diehard thriller and horror fiction fan. But books don’t shine on vibes alone. From my mentors’ edit letter it was clear that there was so much I didn’t know yet, and that I was still very much a fiction newbie. Their letter addressed the plot, overarching themes, A and B characters, motives, sentence-level prose, and the fact that I apparently used the word “glitter” a lot. For a second, reading the feedback felt like I’d been plunged into below-freezing water. Then I took a deep breath, ordered some French fries, and dove deeper into the revisions.

For a second, reading the feedback felt like I’d been plunged into below-freezing water. Then I took a deep breath and dove into the revisions.

The result of that edit letter was a much stronger, polished draft of Sugarhigh. The project would go on to help me secure my incredible literary agent, Victoria Marini. Once I signed with Victoria, I received an edit letter from her—and that was when I decided to integrate writing my own letter into my process. Of course, a letter from an agent is going to have different feedback than my own (more insight into the market, wisdom gleaned from a whole career of positioning books to succeed), but I found that the act of sitting down, trusting my instincts, and writing an edit letter to myself in the third person gave me that little bit of separation I needed to see a project more clearly. It also helped me practice, and get better at, receiving feedback.

If you’re working on a manuscript, taking to the page after you complete a draft to write yourself an edit letter could be a game-changer. Here are some of the ways I structure mine—and happy revising!

Start with a compliment

Many of us experience the writerly urge to think that a project is perfect as is—the dream of receiving the feedback of “no notes.” But that dream isn’t realistic, and getting that feedback might even be a red flag that your editor isn’t pushing you. My workaround to sidestep my own ego is to start with what worked about the draft. It’s just as important to call attention to what you liked and what resonated as it is to highlight what isn’t and doesn’t. If the dialogue is natural, tell yourself that. If the plot is compelling, say so. Not only will complimenting your own writing help drive your excitement for diving back in, but it can help remind you why you felt compelled to write this story to begin with.

Pretend you’re a different person

After I write a full draft of a manuscript, I have it printed at Kinko’s like a real-ass book. Then I hunker down in my reading chair with coffee and read it as if I bought it in the thriller section of Barnes & Noble. Approaching your book as a reader rather than the author helps separate you from the emotional experience of spilling your blood onto a page, putting you in a better position to offer objective feedback. I also do this when writing the edit letter—I imagine myself as different people so the feedback can be as objective as it is constructive.

Think about who your ideal reader is. Is your dream to have Megan Fox reading your book bikini-clad on a yacht? (No, just me?) Pretend you’re the Jennifer’s Body starlet when reading and writing feedback. Another approach is to think about who your ideal editor would be. Research published books in your genre and check the acknowledgements to see who edited it. Any distance you can put between yourself and the book will give you a less biased view, letting you slaughter those darlings left and right for the sake of the story.

Find a structure that makes sense for you

Before I began writing my own edit letters, I received ones that were organized in a few different ways. One way was chronologically, going through the notes chapter by chapter. I’ve also received edit letters that are structured by themes, motifs, plot points, or character relationships. If you’re writing an edit letter for yourself, you may want to try structuring it a few different ways, based on how you revise—linearly vs. jumping around in the manuscript—to see what works best for you.

Any distance you can put between yourself and the book will give you a less biased view.

Don’t keep it to yourself

Writing yourself an edit letter can also prepare you to send your book to beta readers, fellow writers who love your work but can also eviscerate it in the most constructive way possible. Being able to first organize your own thoughts and questions about your manuscript will set you up for success when it comes to asking for feedback from others. You could even send a beta reader your edit letter after they read a draft and see what they agree and don’t agree with. It can become a broader tool, in other words, outside of your own internal process. If you haven’t found your beta readers yet, I recommend signing up for a writing workshop, connecting with the writing community on Twitter, and joining online pitch contests to find fellow writers who “get” you.

End on a compliment

Tend to your little writer’s ego at the end of your letter as well as the beginning. Were there scenes that made you tear up a little? Lines that made you LOL? Author Terry Pratchett said that the first draft is telling yourself the story, so be kind to yourself. No first draft is polished, cohesive, or maybe even that good—but you can’t revise what doesn’t exist, and the next draft will be stronger and closer to your dream than ever before.

And don’t forget to end your edit letter with a:

Love,

[insert name here]

Because what’s an edit letter if not a love letter to yourself?