Getting Curious About Sensory Details

A black-and-white line drawing of a brain, surrounded by line drawings of an ear, mouth, hand, nose, and eye with arrows pointing from the body parts toward the brain.

Close your eyes. Describe the place where you are right now. This is not a test of your short-term memory, but rather a way to focus on all the information you have at your disposal to write that description. How do you know where you are and what is around you? Most of us pay more attention to what we see than the other information coming in through our senses. What do you hear, feel, smell, touch, and taste? Is there anything else you can “sense”?

Try writing a description using only this nonvisual sensory information. Then, write a paragraph using only the details you can see. Which engages you more? Using powerful and relevant sensory details helps us pull readers in, making them feel like they're inside our stories, and it focuses their attention on what we want them to pay attention to. Master the use of sensory details and you have your readers in your power.

There are more ways to use this information in your writing than just showing what a character sees, feels, hears, touches, and smells. Consider that when you use a metaphor, you're tapping into sensory information. If you describe something as smooth as silk, your readers’ hands, on some level, feel the sensation of sliding over silk. In the same way, describing sharp edges, knives, and broken glass can cause a subconscious sensation of pulling away from danger.

As writers, we are often so engrossed in presenting our plot that we forget to use sensory details to our advantage. As I've surveyed writing over the last few months looking for how writers use sensory information, I’ve seen some great examples. Many are  about what things smell like, and that makes sense, because smell is so connected to memory. But as I close my eyes right now, I don't smell anything particularly interesting to write about. I feel the pressure of my chair against the back of my thighs. I hear the fan in the laundry room where I'm drying a sweater. I hear my dog shift on the pillow next to me. I feel the tightness of my fingers and the crick in my neck. There is a little bit of warmth on the side of my face coming from the window, and I taste a dryness in my mouth that tells me I should go get a glass of water. None of this means anything, though, unless I can connect it to something I want to tell you about.

That's the challenge. Once we know to pay attention to all the details available, and have gathered up relevant details to use, how do we connect the information to what we want to tell our readers? It could be as simple as those sharp edges and knives in the description of a scene where we want our readers to feel the danger the character is in. And it can always be more complex. Consider the other senses we have, like the odd sense that someone is watching us, or our ability to sense gravity. Could an odd sense of pressure in the head, as if someone is upside down, signal that even though the room looks right, it isn’t?

I invite you to get curious about how your favorite authors use sensory details. Set an imaginary alarm in your head to go off whenever you see sensory information in what you’re reading. Pause for a moment and reread the passages. Pay attention to which senses are being referred to, what information they're giving you, and how that's connected to the rest of the story.

Consider why the author added those particular details, and why they put them in at that place. In the same way, become curious in your own work about the choices you make unconsciously, and think about additional conscious choices that support your story’s aims. Sensory information is the ultimate “show, don’t tell.” Use it to your advantage.

If you're curious about using sensory details and want to consider more examples, please join me on November 14, 9:00-10:30 am (PST) for Engage the Senses, Engage the Reader: Mastering Sensory Details.

Happy writing!


Christine, a white woman with brown hair and blue eyes smiles at the camera with her hand below her cheek.

Christine Pinto is a Developmental Editor with Allegory Editing. As a developmental editor, Christine draws on her experience as a fiction writer and writing instructor. She holds a Certificate in Writing for Children and a Certificate in Editing from the University of Washington. Over a decade of experience teaching writing to children and adults, she has gained a deep understanding of the craft of writing and strong communication skills for sharing that knowledge with writers. Christine’s own journey as a writer informs her editing work with deep empathy for writers preparing a manuscript for publication. Her interests include historical and contemporary fiction, memoir, romance, fantasy, non-fiction, technical, business writing and writing for children. You can reach Christine at christine@allegoryediting.com.

The Art of Feedback

Image ID: An artist's paint palette with three brushes sticking through the hole. The palette is covered in various shades of paint.

Feedback is an essential part of the writing process. It’s also one that many writers dread.

I have an extensive background as a theater artist—an inherently collaborative art that cannot function properly without feedback. As an actor, director, and playwright, I crave and rely on feedback. I’ve come to see it as an essential part of my creative process in all mediums that I work in.

But that doesn’t mean I never struggle with it. Poorly given feedback or feedback on a piece I feel especially raw about can still sting. My task in these instances is to wade through my feelings or get past a less-than-ideal delivery to find the heart of the feedback—that nugget of truth I can use.

Why is feedback so scary for writers?

Neuroscience teaches us that our brains are hardwired to operate on a “minimize danger, maximize reward” principle. This mechanism is designed to keep us safe from anything we perceive as a threat. When delivered ineffectively, feedback can feel threatening, causing us to shut down.

At this point, you’re probably saying to yourself, “But feedback isn’t threatening. What is this lady on about?”

But something doesn’t have to actually be threatening to cause this reaction in our brains. It only has to be perceived as threatening. And that perception has a lot to do with two things: How the feedback is given and how our brains filter the information when we receive it.

Perhaps the person giving me feedback focuses only on what’s wrong with my manuscript without providing any ideas for how I can improve.  Or perhaps the feedback is given in a brilliantly constructive manner, but I’m particularly insecure about my writing and therefore I filter it through a lens of self-doubt, coloring how I receive it.

Therefore, how feedback is delivered and how it is received must both be considered when setting up a constructive critique relationship.

How to give and receive feedback

Imagine a feedback relationship, whether it be with a critique partner, a beta reader, or a professional editor, that feels collaborative, constructive, and mutually respectful. It’s entirely possible. But it requires both parties to be invested in making the experience work.

Here are some suggestions for how to create a constructive feedback relationship:

Tips for receiving writing feedback

Be specific about what you need. Even when you’re working with a professional editor, it’s helpful to let the other person know what questions you have about your piece and what areas you’re struggling with. It’s also a good idea to give them a sense of your vision for the project so they can align their feedback to support that vision.

Ditch the ego. I’ve heard Lin Manuel Miranda’s directing style described as “creating an egoless room,” and I’ve been in love with that concept ever since. As much as possible, let go of wanting or needing to be right. Remain open to the possibility that the other person may have an idea that’s better than yours. It’s not about being right; it’s about making the work the best it can be.

Be mindful of your filters. “Filters” are experiences, biases, memories, and values that shape how we see and interpret the world. These filters influence how we understand and contextualize the things other people say and do. Take stock of your own filters so you can recognize when they may be skewing your perception of the feedback you receive.

Ask clarifying questions. If you’re unsure about a piece of feedback, ask for more information. This is especially important if you disagree with that feedback or if it brings up strong feelings for you. Take time to get yourself calm, and then politely ask the person giving you feedback for further explanation. You may still disagree with their point, but hopefully you will at least understand where they’re coming from.

Check your defensiveness. It’s natural to want to defend our artistic vision. But if we let go of our egos, and if everyone involved in the process is working toward a mutual goal of making the writing the best it can be, we can see there’s nothing to defend against. Believe me, I know this is easier said than done—defensiveness is my personal fatal flaw. But if you’re like me and know this is your default stance, your job is to work extra hard against that instinct when receiving feedback.

Budget time to sit with the feedback. When setting your writing deadlines, add in a minimum of a few days (ideally a week or two) between getting feedback on a piece and starting your rewrites. This breathing room allows you the space to properly digest the feedback and integrate it into your vision for the work.

Tips for giving writing feedback

Start with positives. Opening your feedback with what you liked about the piece helps set a supportive tone. It reduces the chances the writer will immediately put their guard up and go into a defensive mode and increases the chances they will remain open to your feedback.

Consider what will be most constructive for the receiver. Is this an early draft and the writer wants to know if the structure and plot are working? It’s usually more productive at this stage to focus on the bigger picture rather than getting bogged down in the minutiae of every sentence. Did your critique partner come to you with three very specific questions and ask you to focus only on those for the time being? Do your best to stick to that. If you have feedback beyond what they asked for, you can always check in with them to see if they would like it now or later.  

Ask questions. Before giving feedback, ask the writer what they hope to get out of the interaction, what they’re struggling with, and what questions they have about the piece. It can also be useful to find out about their prior experiences receiving feedback—what’s worked and what hasn’t—so you can tailor your approach to match their style.

Remember that it’s not your story. Give feedback that supports the writer’s vision. If your critique partner is writing a cozy mystery but you think a high-stakes shootout would really spice up the plot, well . . . perhaps you need to write your own action story instead.

Allow for follow-up questions. Misunderstandings happen and we’re not always as clear as we think we are. Make yourself available for follow-up questions so the writer can get the most out of your feedback.

Understand that if big feelings do arise, it’s (probably) not personal. If a writer gets defensive or angry or hurt after you give them feedback, remember that receiving feedback is scary for many people. It’s worth examining if there was anything in your delivery that could be improved upon, but it may have more to do with their filters than anything else.


Image ID: Andrea, a white woman with brown, curly hair, stands in front of a tree. She wears a blue dress and is smiling at the camera.

Andrea Karin Nelson is the Founder & Executive Editor at Allegory Editing. In addition to her developmental editing work with published novelists, playwrights, and essayists, Andrea brings a unique set of experiences and skills to her editing craft. Twenty years as a writer and theater maker has developed her keen sense of story structure, plot and character development. Her plays have been commissioned and produced across the United States and performed in both English and American Sign Language. Fifteen years as a Master-Level, Certified Sign Language Interpreter has finely tuned her ear to the subtleties of language and the nuances of human interactions. And with over two decades as an educator, her teacher's heart allows Andrea to personally tailor her work with each writer. Click here to read an interview about Andrea’s journey founding Allegory. You can contact her at andrea@allegoryediting.com.

How to Use Backstory to Develop Your Characters

Image ID: A close up of a typewritten page reading “EVERYONE HAS A STORY.”

Backstory is paramount to effective character development as well as writing realistic, impactful relationships. When I read a story with one-dimensional characters who don't engage my interest, one of the first thoughts I have is, "I'll bet the writer doesn't really know their characters."

What is backstory?

Put simply, backstory is everything that happens to your characters before your reader meets them. It encompasses a wide variety of elements such as a character's age, where they grew up, and their socioeconomic status. The possibilities are truly endless because, just like people, well-written characters contain multitudes.

How do writers use backstory?

In my past life as an actor, one of the first exercises I would do in preparing for a role was to work on my character's backstory. Some of this would come from clues in the script, while a lot was left up to me as an actor to create. Indeed, the many blanks an actor must fill in for their character's backstory, and all the room for interpretation within that, is part of what makes no two productions of a play the same. 

As fiction writers, you should be able to answer all of the same questions an actor does about your characters. (I have provided my suggested backstory questions at the end of this article.) 

Much of the backstory you develop will not make its way onto the page in a direct way. Indeed, much of your backstory should not be included on the page. But it should influence every scene you write. Who a person is and what they've been through impacts every aspect of their lives, whether consciously or not. 

Backstory for plotters and pantsers 

Some of us (myself included) are what I've heard fondly referred to as "pantsers"—as in we fly by the seat of our pants. We're the writers who jump into a blank page, often with no more than a premise, an image in our heads of an interesting character, or the beginnings of a captivating world. The characters and plot develop organically as we go along, and it is in the rewrites that we make sure all the pieces add up. 

Then there are the "plotters.” These are the writers who plan out all of the plot points ahead of time. Spreadsheets may or may not be involved. Plotters may do some character development as they go along, but they are much more likely to have thought deeply about who the characters are before they begin writing. 

These are vast generalizations, of course, and often writers swing along the spectrum from pantser to plotter, depending on the project. My point is, whether you are a pantser or a plotter, you can benefit from consciously considering backstory. Whether you do it before you put a single word on the page, between your first and second drafts, or at various points along the way, it is an exercise that will benefit any story. 

How to develop a backstory for your characters

Which backstory elements are useful for you will depend on your genre, the story you’re trying to tell, and how your writer brain operates. But here are some backstory questions that are useful to consider. Some questions may seem obvious, but you'd be surprised how often writers can't answer some of the more basic facts about their characters. This list is by no means exhaustive, and not every item on the list will speak to each writer. Use it as a jumping off point to get your creative juices flowing. 

  • How old is the character? 

  • Where did they grow up? 

  • What is their socioeconomic background and current socioeconomic status? 

  • What is their marital status and relationship history? 

    • How do they feel about it? 

  • Do they have children? 

  • What is their highest level of education? 

  • What do they do for a living? 

    • Do they like it? 

  • How do they know the other characters? 

    • How long have they known them?

    • How do they feel about them? 

    • Do they get along? 

    • Did they always? 

      • If not, why not? 

  • What are their plans for the future? 

    • Their hopes and dreams? 

    • Their fears? 

  • What do/did their parents do for a living? 

    • How does this influence them? 

    • Did they follow in their footsteps or take a different path? 

  • Was their childhood happy overall? 

    • Were there any traumas? 

    • Did they have friends growing up? 

    • What about enemies? 

  • What is their race and ethnicity? 

    • Immigration status? 

    • Are these the same as the rest of their family or different?

    • In what ways did these elements impact them growing up? 

    • What about now? 

  • What is their gender identity and sexual orientation? 

    • In what ways does their gender and sexuality influence their worldview? 

    • If they are not straight and/or cisgendered, have they come out yet? 

      • When? 

      • To whom?

      • What was that experience like? 

  • What kind of religious beliefs and practices (if any) were they raised with?

    • Have they maintained those, or gone a different direction? 

  • What is their biggest mistake and/or regret in life? 

  • What is their biggest accomplishment or joy?

Final thoughts

Creating a robust backstory for your characters is one of the most important things a writer can do. The practice allows you to develop multidimensional characters that will appeal to readers and help them feel connected to the story. It can also help drive your plot. Whether you’re a “plotter” or a “pantser,” taking the time to consider backstory is paramount for every writer of fiction, memoir, and creative nonfiction.


Image ID: Andrea, a white woman with brown, curly hair, stands in front of a tree. She wears a blue dress and is smiling at the camera.

Andrea Karin Nelson is the Founder & Executive Editor at Allegory Editing. In addition to her developmental editing work with published novelists, playwrights, and essayists, Andrea brings a unique set of experiences and skills to her editing craft. Twenty years as a writer and theater maker has developed her keen sense of story structure, plot and character development. Her plays have been commissioned and produced across the United States and performed in both English and American Sign Language. Fifteen years as a Master-Level, Certified Sign Language Interpreter has finely tuned her ear to the subtleties of language and the nuances of human interactions. And with over two decades as an educator, her teacher's heart allows Andrea to personally tailor her work with each writer. Click here to read an interview about Andrea’s journey founding Allegory. You can contact her at andrea@allegoryediting.com.

Build Your Characters, Build Your Plot

IMAGE ID: A brick layer builds a wall.

The literary community often talks about plot and character as separate entities, and for many reasons that’s a useful way to discuss those components.

But the reality is more nuanced.

Plot is built from character action. Without action there is no plot; without characters there is no action.

So how do throughlines, spines, and big questions help writers build both plot and character?

I like to talk about throughlines as bread crumbs through the forest. Each one must be visible to the next or the trail ends. If they’re too close together, the reader can get irritated because the scenes are redundant or repetitive, just as a person searching for the next bread crumb in the forest doesn’t need a marker every few inches.

Each scene, each chapter, is a bread crumb, leading the reader from beginning to end.

Spines are like the binding on a book. They hold the pages together—in a specific order. Without a spine, the book would fall apart, the pages becoming hopelessly jumbled. Readers faced with a bound book versus a pile of unorganized pages will choose the bound book every time.

Stories are similar. Readers want the scenes to connect … eventually. Scenes can appear to occur out of order, jumping around in time, place, and viewpoint character. But by the final page, readers can look back and understand that what appeared as disorder was actually a carefully crafted plot held together with the spine.

Big questions are those wonderful openings that hook readers, culminating in a satisfying answer at the end. Writers can use a big question to help them understand what the book is really about, then be confident in a solid ending by answering the question. The answer might be yes or no, or even maybe, but regardless of the answer, the question is addressed fully during the climax of the story.

Each of these concepts can be applied to any manuscript. By understanding and using them during the writing process, complex characters will emerge, and a tight, engaging plot will take readers—including agents and editors—on the thrill of the adventure, the sweetness of the love story, or the poignancy of the coming-of-age. All genres can be improved with the use of throughlines, spines, and big questions.

Writers of narrative nonfiction also benefit from these concepts. Any story, regardless of whether it’s fiction or a retelling of a true event, needs structure and complex characters to truly shine.


IMAGE ID: Elena, a white woman with long blonde hair, smiles at the camera.

Elena Hartwell Taylor is the Senior Editor & Director of Programming at Allegory Editing. In addition to working as a developmental editor and writing coach, Elena is a published author. Her most recent novel, All We Buried, appears under the name Elena Taylor. The Eddie Shoes Mystery Series appears under Elena Hartwell. Prior to writing novels, Elena worked extensively in the theater as a playwright, director, educator, and designer. She has taught writing and theatre courses at the college/university level for more than twenty years. She holds a PhD in dramatic theory and criticism, a Masters of Education with an emphasis in teaching theatre, and a BA in Mass Media Communications. For more information about Elena, you can visit her website and read her blog about authors, new books, and the writing process. You can contact her at elena@allegoryediting.com.

Let’s Talk about Point of View

IMAGE ID: A female-presenting person stands on the side of a country road. They hold a round lens with a thick rim to their eye. Everything is blurry except for their hand, which is in focus.

Some of the most common errors I see in manuscripts are issues with point of view. Oftentimes, those issues come about because writers aren’t clear on their point-of-view characters. Other times, the problem lies in the POV character’s point of view.

Why is point of view important in writing?

Choosing who tells a story—and in what POV they tell it—is one of the most important decisions a writer can make. I, you, she, he, they … all of these have pros and cons. Add in third person limited, but multiple, and first person interspersed with chapters from third person omniscient, and the potential for mistakes goes up exponentially.

How does genre impact point of view?

Some genres lend themselves to certain POVs, such as the sassy female detective story told in first person. The Alphabet Series from Sue Grafton, which started out, “My name is Kinsey Millhone,” launched an entire genre back in the eighties. We also see the sweeping fantasy with extensive worldbuilding done in third person omniscient. It’s storytelling from an all-knowing view with access to every character and any event the writer sees fit to include.

This does not mean a writer has to write with those POVs or that first person can’t work in a sweeping fantasy, but understanding the limitations of first person might make a fantasy writer think twice before choosing to put intimacy with character ahead of access to greater world building details.

Common POV mistakes writers make

Head-hopping (leaping from POV to POV and confusing the reader) and including information that a character doesn’t have access to, and therefore can’t inform the reader, are common problems and can derail even the best of stories.

Writers can also miss out on the advantages of a specific POV. First person is the most intimate of POVs, but if the POV character doesn’t share their internal landscape, what’s the point of limiting all the other information in the story? An omniscient POV allows for the reader to experience everything in the world that the author created, so if readers can’t explore that environment and be in on all the secrets, why force them to distance from the protagonist?

Whether writing memoir and not mining first person for all it’s worth or writing a thriller with multiple points of view but lacking tension in each scene, fixing point-of-view can take a problem manuscript to a polished, publishable level.


IMAGE ID: Elena, a white woman with long, dark blonde hair, smiles at the camera.

Elena Hartwell Taylor is the Senior Editor & Director of Programming at Allegory Editing. In addition to working as a developmental editor and writing coach, Elena is a published author. Her most recent novel, All We Buried, appears under the name Elena Taylor. The Eddie Shoes Mystery Series appears under Elena Hartwell. Prior to writing novels, Elena worked extensively in the theater as a playwright, director, educator, and designer. She has taught writing and theatre courses at the college/university level for more than twenty years. She holds a PhD in dramatic theory and criticism, a Masters of Education with an emphasis in teaching theatre, and a BA in Mass Media Communications. For more information about Elena, you can visit her website and read her blog about authors, new books, and the writing process. You can contact her at elena@allegoryediting.com.

The Rhythm of Language—Finding Your Author Voice

Image ID: A white, older man with white hair and a tux stands against a black background. He holds a conductor’s baton. Floating near his hand are the words: punctuation, sentence structure, and synonyms.

From utilizing sentence length to set the pace of a section, to playing with punctuation to allow readers a welcome breather, to intentional repetition of words for emphasis and impact, rhythm is one of the most dynamic tools writers have at their disposal. Attention to rhythm in writing is also one of the best techniques a writer can apply to cultivate the ever-important, often-illusive author voice.

Read on to learn some helpful tips for maximizing this vital literary element.

Tip: Vary the length and complexity of sentences.

Meaty sentences for readers to really savor can be delicious. But fill an entire novel with them and readers may feel like they are choking. Short, simple sentences can serve as much needed palate cleansers to keep a reader engaged and wanting more.

Tip: Play around with sentence structure.

Playing around with sentence structure is a great way to utilize rhythm in your writing. Here are some ideas:

  • Find sentences that start with the subject and try rewriting them to put the verb first, and vice versa.

  • Experiment with (intentional and judicious!) use of sentence fragments.

  • Swap clauses to see what reads best. For example:

Sheila preferred to go without a coat in the rain.

The above sentence provides a notable bit of character information about Sheila. But take a look at what happens with a simple rearrangement of clauses:

In the rain, Sheila preferred to go without a coat.

Restructured in this way, the sentence not only gives us information about Sheila’s character, but it also serves to better evoke her for the reader. A natural pause is created after in the rain, which allows a picture of rain to drop into the reader’s mind. It also reads as more declarative, so we get the sense that this is a bold and confident choice on Sheila’s part. Both are valid ways to write the sentence, depending on what you want to accomplish in that moment.

Tip: Get creative with punctuation (but know the rules first).

Commas and periods and dashes, oh my! Consider mining punctuation to enhance the rhythm of your writing. For example:

  • For asides, a comma provides a softer, subtler touch. To make an aside really stand out, try an em-dash instead. If we want the reader to stop and consider something, parentheses are our best bet.

  • Writers may think the semicolon has no place in creative writing. But used wisely, it can be highly effective in literature. For example, using it to connect two seemingly unrelated ideas can draw a line for the reader without the need to be explicit. Used this way, it can also be mined for humor. (Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is absolutely brilliant in her execution of the unexpected semicolon. I highly recommend you pick up her novel Americanah for a masterclass in the use of this punctuation.)

  • Three periods with spaces between (not to be confused with ellipses) create the illusion of a pause and can also illicit the impression of stuttering or faltering speech.

  • While run-on sentences are generally a no-no, they do occasionally have a place. Take for example a character who experiences a manic episode. Writing their dialogue with a jumble of ideas all running together with little to no punctuation can very clearly illustrate the pressured speech common in mania. The caution here is not to overdo it; break up such dialogue with prose so as not to wear the reader out.

Tip: Try reading the work out loud.

Hearing our words read aloud, by us or another person, can be a great way to get a feel for the rhythm of the piece. Whether this method is useful for each of us may depend on how we process language.

I personally love hearing my plays read aloud. The way the dialogue sounds from the actors in a rehearsal room can spark ideas I never would have had on my own. On the other hand, I never read my fiction out loud. When I read silently to myself, I can hear the words very clearly in my own mind, complete with accents, varied speed, and emphasis.

Despite my training and many years of experience as an actor, my fiction rarely sounds as spot on when I read it out loud as it does in my head. I find it far more effective to read it to myself as though it’s being said out loud. The process and feeling when I read to assess the language are distinct from when I read for other purposes, such as to take in information or to enjoy a story. I must be intentional in order to read for assessment, and I must take my time in order to access this process in my brain.

This may not work for everyone’s brain. Many writers find reading their fiction out loud invaluable. Some prefer to ask another person to read it aloud to them (aside from stage plays, I do not find this helpful). Others like to utilize the text-to-speech feature in Word. Figure out what works best through thoughtful experimentation.

Tip: Synonyms are your friend.

Not only is precise word choice important for conveying ideas, it also plays an important role in the rhythm of a sentence. For example:

  • Walked evokes a smooth pace, while the word skittered brings to mind a quicker, more staccato movement.

  • For a lighter, breezier feel, we might replace traveled with gallivanted. As the reader hops through the additional syllables, they get the sense of the character bounding from place to place.

Tip: Read. Read. Read.

Take note of particularly effective passages. What worked? Similarly, pay attention if something doesn’t feel satisfying about the author’s use of language. Play around with what could be done differently. Maybe there are one too many syllables, or perhaps a little rearranging would do the trick.

Final thoughts

Use the above tips to improve the rhythm in your writing and help discover and refine your author voice. Above all, have fun. Language is a living, breathing thing. Experiment, play, be joyful and curious. Allow me to extend the rhythm metaphor a tad further: language is a writer’s instrument. So tune up, practice with intention, and go make some music.


Andrea, a white woman with brown, curly hair, stands in front of a tree. She wears a blue dress and is smiling at the camera.

Andrea Karin Nelson is the Founder & Executive Editor at Allegory Editing. In addition to her developmental editing work with published novelists, playwrights, and essayists, Andrea brings a unique set of experiences and skills to her editing craft. Twenty years as a writer and theater maker has developed her keen sense of story structure, plot and character development. Her plays have been commissioned and produced across the United States and performed in both English and American Sign Language. Fifteen years as a Master-Level, Certified Sign Language Interpreter has finely tuned her ear to the subtleties of language and the nuances of human interactions. And with over two decades as an educator, her teacher's heart allows Andrea to personally tailor her work with each writer. Click here to read an interview about Andrea’s journey founding Allegory. You can contact her at andrea@allegoryediting.com.

When Should a Writer Use an Editor?

[Image ID: A red pen sits atop a typed document. Various red marks have been made on the paper.]

We’re so glad you asked! We get this question a lot here at Allegory. The truth is, writers can use editors anytime during the writing process, but here are a few suggestions to help you determine when it might be right for you.

Working with a developmental editor usually starts after a writer has completed a first draft. Keep in mind, this may take several passes through your manuscript, so “first draft” is more like “first complete and partially-polished draft.” Listed below are some checkpoints to use when deciding if your draft is “done.”

  • Clear beginning, middle, and end.

  • No big jumps in plot.

  • Reasonable formatting. Chapter headings are clear, material is double-spaced, and the author has proofread to the best of their ability. (Stay tuned for a handy-dandy formatting guide from Allegory coming soon!)

  • Author can’t identify any other places to rewrite or make changes. You may have a good idea of some “problem areas,” but if you feel like you’ve gone as far as you can to fix things on your own, it’s usually a good time for another set of eyes.

How is developmental editing different from copy editing?

Great question! A developmental edit focuses on story structure, character arc, dynamic dialogue, and other big picture issues. Depending on what level of developmental editing you hire us for, we may focus on sentence-level details as well, but it is all done with the goal of supporting the issues listed above. This is a distinct process from a copy edit.

So, when does a writer need a proofread or copy edit? Are those the same thing?

Another excellent question! The terms proofread and copy edit often get used interchangeably, but they are two different things. A copy edit is to make sure the writing is clear. This encompasses things like passive voice (“. . .the book was read . . .” Wait, read by whom?) and timelines glitches (“George drank a glass of water, he went over to the sink and filled it.” Wait, shouldn’t he have filled the glass first? Or did he just get a second glass of water?)

A proofread is that final, careful read to check for typos, punctuation errors, grammatical errors, or specific mistakes, such as changing a character’s name from Bill to Stan halfway through.

Both of these types of editing are very important, but only matter after you have a solid manuscript. So how do you know if you’re ready for a proofreader or copy editor? Below are some identifying factors.

  • You are ready to query agents and editors, but you are not good at catching grammatical errors or typos. No shame in this! You may want to have a solid proofread and copy edit done before you send your material out. If you’ve worked with us for a developmental edit, we will mark any grammatical errors and typos that we catch, but it is up to you to fix them. And of course, after you address the structural issues that we point out, additional grammatical errors, typos, etc. are bound to pop up. This is totally normal. After you rewrite to address the feedback from a developmental edit, your manuscript will need a very thorough read through specifically for these details. If you aren’t confident in your own ability to catch these types of errors, (again, no shame!) then a professional copy edit & proofread is a good option.

  • You plan to self-publish. Self-published authors should have both a copy edit and a proofread prior to uploading—potentially even more than one round. No matter how strong a writer is at proofreading, we rarely catch all our own mistakes.

An outside eye is so important for writers and hiring a professional editor is the best way to get high-quality feedback on your work. We hope this article helped clear up some of your questions on when (and how) to utilize editors. If you have additional questions or want to find out if your project is ready for an editor, reach out to the team at Allegory Editing.

Even Chatbots Admit Human Editors Are Better than AI Editors

Image ID: A white robot with purple arms and a yellow headset pops out of the front of a smart phone. A yellow speech bubble coming from the robot reads: "Sometimes you just need a human!”

Artificial intelligence capabilities continue to evolve rapidly in many fields, including writing and editing. AI can do everything from drone navigation to medical image analysis to fraud detection, not to mention creativity and content creation, which strikes justified fear and anxiety into the hearts of artists everywhere.

Can AI replace human copy editors?

While certain tasks can be automated, many experts say AI is not likely to replace every human job. It can’t fully replicate human creativity, emotional intelligence, empathy, critical thinking, complex problem-solving, caregiving, or ethical decision-making—in short, the nuances of human interaction.

One job that requires all of the above (and a job that AI can only attempt to do) is copy editing. It involves more than just attention to the “right and wrong” of grammar and punctuation—a copy editor needs a true understanding of and admiration for the creative process. A feature like spell-check can be helpful, and while grammar checkers may be less beneficial, they at least provide a starting point. But a human copy editor is an author’s best friend, especially in the world of fiction and creative nonfiction.

What can a human editor do that AI can’t?

ChatGPT, a chatbot developed in 2022 by an AI research lab, uses AI to understand and respond to human-like conversation and compose human-like writing. This chatbot freely admits it can’t measure up to a human copy editor. According to ChatGPT, in answer to the question, “Why are human copy editors better than AI copy editors?” the human copy editor outperforms the AI copy editor for these reasons:

1.   AI “struggles to grasp language nuances, cultural references, idiomatic expressions, and contextual subtleties.”

2.   Human editors are better at applying creativity and judgment to resolve issues of “ambiguous or unconventional language use” since AI may “rely solely on predefined rules and patterns, which might not cover all scenarios.”

3.   AI “may struggle to capture the nuances of subjective preferences” in language, while human editors can “tailor edits according to specific requirements.”

4.   AI “may struggle with more complex grammatical or stylistic issues, especially in creative or technical writing.” Human editors are more accurate and efficient in identifying such issues.

5.   AI “may lack cultural awareness and sensitivity,” while human editors are better at “respecting diversity, avoiding offensive language, and adhering to ethical standards.” 

6.   AI does not offer “meaningful interaction”  or a “collaborative relationship” with an author. The relationship between a human copy editor and an author flourishes in an atmosphere of personalized feedback, discussion of questions and concerns, and honest, supportive dialogue about the author’s work.

The final word

For the best copy editing and proofreading experience, writers should rely on their own skills and instincts and those of their writer friends, beta readers, teachers, and professional copy editors. If human nuances are neglected or removed from the creative process, the final product will suffer. The writer’s voice and worldview could be damaged or lost. As writers and editors, we rely on those “meaningful interactions” and “collaborative relationships” as key parts of our creative processes. Writers will always need the supportive and detail-oriented touch of a human copy editor. In a world more and more reliant on computers, we need to protect what makes us human.


Amy, a caucasian woman with brown hair and glasses, smiles facing the camera. Behind her is a large tree.

Amy Cecil Holm is Allegory Editing’s resident Copy Editor and Proofreader. As a copy editor and proofreader, Amy draws upon more than three decades of teaching college English to help authors polish their prose. She holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a master’s degree in creative writing and has worked as a journalist, technical writer, and educator. Amy has taught courses in English composition, literature, creative writing, journalistic writing, business writing, and developmental reading, among others. She has a keen understanding of grammar, punctuation, and diction and uses her careful attention to detail to help prepare manuscripts for submission and publication.