A Writer’s Journey with Their Editor: Collaboration in Action

A person standing up to shake a second person's hand across a desk

I met my editor, Michelle, over a decade ago in the bookstore where we both worked. I didn’t know it then, but it would be the start of a writer and editor collaboration that would set (and go on to raise) the bar for any other editor I ever work with. Today, Michelle spends her time as a professional editor for Blue Leaf Editing (and, honestly, you’d be hard pressed to find someone with her work ethic), and yours truly (aka Shaun) has her to thank for the editing of my first novel, Compliant Hearts.

Considering our longstanding creative collaboration, we thought it might be valuable to shed light on how editor and writer collaborations work. Yes, we know the editing process can be daunting to many people, but at the end of the day, teamwork makes the (literary) dream work.

Table of Contents

    Setting the Scene: The Writing Project

    I wanted to write Compliant Hearts, my first Regency romance, with a specific feel and aesthetic in mind: 19th-century pastiche with a healthy dose of Barbara Cartland fluff. And when I finished the first few drafts, I thought I’d done exactly that.

    It’s one thing, however, to write a novel. It’s another thing to edit it, and yet another thing to find an editor who won’t make the book unrecognisable (in the worst way possible).

    Enter Editor, Stage Left

    Of course, my go-to editor was Michelle – and not only because we were longtime friends, but because she is what I believe every editor should be: honest, unbiased, keen-eyed, insightful, and experienced.

    I was fortunate in that I’d already worked with Michelle before, both professionally and personally, and I knew that she’d never read my work and try to change it into something that didn’t align with what I’d set out to write in the first place.

    This didn’t mean that she wouldn’t be honest, of course. It just meant that she wouldn’t be prejudiced (which I would’ve worried about if it were anyone else, since Compliant Hearts had a very specific tone and voice that I wanted to preserve).

    Fears of a Writer

    I can’t speak for every writer out there, but I can speak for myself and hope that it reigns true. I have two fears when it comes to handing over my work to an editor. The first? Dishonesty.

    Yes, that’s right. And it might seem counterproductive for an editor to be dishonest, but I’ve seen numerous writers, especially those who are self-published, send out their manuscripts to editors who do half-jobs. Editors who would gladly take your money and leave your book ready to be burned at the stake by online reviewers.

    The second fear? Bias. An editor who tries to change a manuscript to fit their vision of what it should be isn’t one I’d want to collaborate with. I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ll say it again here: editors have their own beliefs, likes, and dislikes. The best ones, like Michelle, remain professional and approach a project without personal preferences blinding them to what the manuscript should be.

    So, with the draft done, I send it to Michelle and start playing the waiting game.

    A man and woman sitting at a table, smiling into the camera
    Michelle and Shaun brainstorming over breakfast

    The Editor’s First Look

    Leave it to Shaun to set this blog’s bar so high already. But that’s the interesting thing: You can tell a lot about a writer from their work. It might sound silly, but you can almost track the writer’s thought process. Where they were in the zone, where they put something in because they didn’t know what else to do. Where they ran out of time and rushed. 

    In Shaun’s case, his writing screams professional (and talent, obviously). He understands AND respects the writing process, which means his drafts are fairly clean when I see them for the first time. I’ve worked on projects where the ‘edit-ready’ version was clearly the first rough draft.

    For Compliant Hearts, we agreed on separate manuscript assessment, copy-edit, and proofreading rounds. So, expecting the usual level of professionalism, I settled in with my coffee and opened the PDF.

    The First Read-Through

    I start every fiction edit with a full read-through. It helps me get a sense of the project as a whole and avoids instances of ‘Why? Why?’ on early pages to ‘Oh, that’s why’ at a later point.

    Now, while I appreciate the functionality of online editing tools, I still sometimes think better on paper. During my read-through, I have a notebook and pen to jot down my thoughts and questions as I go. I don’t want to smother the PDF in highlighter and comments already.

    Some notes I made for Compliant Hearts include:

      • Character descriptions (physical and personality). These need to stay consistent throughout the story.
      • How characters connect to each other. Are they family, married, business partners, etc.?  
      • Events, habits, and rules specific to the time period. The book is set during the Regency, so I mustn’t change anything characteristic of the time. 
      • Themes (aka the golden threads tying the story together). These need to be clear and reach a resolution.
      • Transitions. Do scenes and chapters flow well? Does the pacing get jarring at any point? 

    I’m not focusing on language mistakes here. I point it out if I come across one, but that’s a worry for the copy-edit.

    Once the first read-through is done, I let it rest. The editing wheel in my mind whirs in the background while I do something else, and then it’s time to transcribe my notes for Shaun.

    Putting Editing Feedback Together

    I give writers editing feedback in three ways: directly in the manuscript via highlighters and comments, at the end of chapters via textboxes, and in a separate report that I email. Comments are for specific instances, textboxes for bigger feedback, and the report for big-big feedback.

    To incorporate the feedback, I read the manuscript again but slower. I consult my notes regularly and add them to the PDF accordingly. 

    For example, a comment could be: 

      • A suggestion – “Another break might work here to smooth out the change in scenery.”
      • An alert – “Is the locket or the gesture important somehow? Just make sure each action from a character contributes to them. Descriptions shouldn’t contain any empty gestures.”
      • Encouragement – “What a loaded sentence. I love it.”

    Regardless of the feedback format, I make sure my notes are understandable. Vagueness and ambiguity have no place here. My notes are also relevant. They relate directly to the text and don’t go off on tangents. Finally, I keep all of my feedback professional. While Shaun and I are friends, this is a professional context. I don’t suddenly have leeway to be rude or force my opinions on him. After all, we’re on the same team with the same goal: making his novel even better than it can be.

    Back-and-Forth: The Real Collaboration Begins

    So, the manuscript assessment is done, and Shaun takes a few weeks to work through the feedback. Then he sends me his thoughts. The warmup rounds are over – now the writer and editor collaboration starts in earnest.

    ​​Assessing the Assessment: First Steps

    The first thing I see is the email. In the body, Michelle gives an overview of the feedback within the actual document. She lists the manuscript’s strong points and workable points. Things like:

      • It’s good that there aren’t any loose ends or unanswered questions.
      • You have used the passive voice excessively – is it a style choice?
      • There were one or two instances where you talk about characters that haven’t been introduced/contextualised.

    It kind of prepares you for what you might find in the actual document (which, let’s be honest, most of us will be itching to open and browse through). And it’s also really helpful to have the feedback coherently laid out like that before delving into the actual assessment.

    So, once I’ve read through that, I click on the attachment and hope for the best.

    Inside the Manuscript

    Next, I do a quick read-through of all the points Michelle made: the highlights, notes, and words of wisdom.

    It’s nice when an editor points out things that they liked in a manuscript. Many (*cough, cough* most) of the ones I’ve worked with don’t do that – due to time constraints, understandably – but it just makes the writer feel better to know that they did some things right. That the entire thing isn’t just a big mess with corrections splattered everywhere, you know?

    One of the things I noticed immediately, which Michelle also mentioned as a workable point, was that she flagged the dialogue (complete with quotation marks) in the paragraphs, especially while I was telling the story in third person. This wasn’t something that I wanted to adjust, since I felt that it was an integral part of what I wanted Compliant Hearts to be.

    To give a bit more context (since I can do that now), this lexical feature was inspired by Maria Edgeworth’s novel, Patronage, which I was reading at the time. She does the same thing, and I really wanted to include that in my manuscript – especially in this age of AI, where everything seems to be uniform and straightforward and, well, modern.

    Here’s an example: 

    I knew that this, at least, would stay.

    But, aside from that, practically all of Michelle’s feedback was valid. The pacing in Chapter 27 needed to be fixed, the beginning of certain chapters was too blunt, and there were instances where the characters really did need to double down on, well, their character to make the story better.

    Vision vs Reality: The Big Picture Before Editing

    Now, before I just start adjusting and accepting edits, I pause. Many people forget that writers spend a lot of time birthing and bleeding over a story. I mean, have you ever heard a parent speak about their child? Practically everyone’s offspring is a prodigy. And, while most writers may not feel that way about their books – and while I think they do suspect their writing is flawed – admitting it is a whole other ballgame.

    The thing with receiving editing feedback, though, is that you have to come to terms with the fact that – even though you secretly suspected it – your work isn’t perfect. Your child needs assistance. It’s why editors exist.

    And that’s fine.

    A man and woman sitting at a table on a patio, smiling into the camera
    Shaun and Michelle celebrating project milestones

    I’ll say it again: It’s fine to accept that your work will be flawed. (If you want, read it aloud to really bring home the point, because that helps me sometimes.) That’s the game. I mean, you aren’t a machine. And, to be frank (having read a lot of what machines can produce in the way of writing), they don’t even get it right.

    But the reason I step back and take a breath isn’t to mourn. It’s to put on the business hat and glasses and prepare myself to take a look at the manuscript as a potential reader and buyer.

    I had to ask myself, would my target audience know who Beau Brummell was without context?
    Was I being stubborn about the decision to include dialogue in the paragraph?
    In essence, which of the edits would make     Compliant Hearts appeal most to whom I wrote it for?

    The Manuscript’s Prioritised Revisions

    The reader needs to come first when you’re editing. And, ten to one, if the editor points to something that needs adjustment, future readers will probably share the sentiment. That’s why, when Michelle says something doesn’t flow properly (like the instance in Chapter 27) or if she points out that characters aren’t acting how she’d expect them to in the context of the story, I listen.

    For me, two things need to be prioritised when it comes to the editing process and assessing the feedback an editor gives: Story and character.

    Story

    A key component and one of the reasons why people pick up a romance novel in the first place, the story feedback is the first thing I address. At the end of a few chapters, Michelle left notes regarding this. It makes it easy to identify where to begin smoothing everything out – and, honestly, was super helpful. Take a look: 

    Not only does this feedback give me an idea of what a reader might think, but also serves as a possible blueprint for how to properly go about smoothing the story and making the character better.

    Character

    The most important thing about a novel to me is the characters, where the fun is at. To the writer and reader, they tend to be very real, but not everything in a writer’s head translates well. While I might feel the passion and love that two characters have for each other, the trick is to ensure the reader feels it too. So, when Michelle gives feedback about characters, chances are pretty good that I’ll listen and probably accept any changes or additions she suggests. Take this, for example:

    Here, Michelle specifically addresses something that seems out of character for Forsythe. And I agreed and rewrote accordingly.

    Challenges in the Collaborative Editing Process

    Even with a great writer-editor relationship, the editing process isn’t without its bumps. When you’re knee-deep in a manuscript you’ve bled over (writer) or about to wield your red pen like a scalpel (editor), a few challenges are bound to pop up.

    Challenge 1: Communication Wobbles

    You know that feeling when you send a carefully worded email and the response clearly missed the point? Now imagine that, but with your entire book on the line.

    Even when you know each other well (perhaps especially when you know each other well), it’s easy to assume you’re being clear … only to realise later that something got lost in translation. An edit that was meant as a soft suggestion can feel like a personal jab if phrased the wrong way. A request to “rethink this section” can spiral into, “She hated it. She hated it.”

    Solution: Multi-Channel Clarity

    We use a combination of in-text comments, voice notes, and actual conversations (the kind with real voices, not just emojis). If something feels ambiguous, we clarify it sooner rather than later. We also make peace with the fact that clarification isn’t a sign of weakness, but mutual respect.

    Challenge 2: Separating Self from Story

    Writers aren’t supposed to take feedback personally. Editors aren’t supposed to take pushback personally. But when you care this much about the work, it’s hard not to.

    Shaun put months into crafting Compliant Hearts, the characters, the voice, the tone. Of course he’s protective of it. On the flip side, I put in hours reading, analysing, and suggesting improvements. If something gets cut that I feel passionately about, I have to remind myself: this isn’t my book.

    Solution: Know Your Lane

    We each stick to our role. Shaun as the writer with creative ownership, Michelle as the editor guiding clarity and consistency. We trust each other’s expertise and remind ourselves that it’s not about winning. It’s about publishing the best version of the story. If a suggestion isn’t taken, I trust there’s a reason. And if I push back on something, Shaun knows it’s not ego – it’s craft.

    Challenge 3: Burnout and Brain Fog

    Creative projects are exhausting. By the time a manuscript hits the proofreading stage, the writer is usually somewhere between “please, no more commas” and “I never want to see this book again”. Editors aren’t immune either. After your tenth re-read, you start second-guessing every hyphen.

    Solution: Build in Space

    We let the manuscript breathe between rounds. That distance is critical for fresh eyes and clear thinking. If something feels heavy or overwhelming, we communicate, take a break, and return with our respective sanity (mostly) intact.

    The Business Side of Writing and Editing

    Once the bulk of the edits are done, it’s tempting to think the hard part’s over. But *cue record scratch*. Welcome to the business end of the project.

    This is the part where creativity meets commercial reality. Because no matter how beautiful the prose or swoony the hero, a book needs to be polished and professional to stand a chance in the market.

    Keeping the Endgame in Mind

    From an editor’s side, I always have the reader in mind. Not just Shaun, not just me. I ask: Is this book ready for a paying audience? Will readers understand what’s going on and want more? Are there any barriers (typos, plot holes, logic gaps, outdated language) that might make someone close the book and leave a one-star review?

    From Shaun’s side, it’s about balancing the artistic vision with market expectations. Compliant Hearts wasn’t written to sit in a drawer. It was written to be published, shared, loved – and ideally, bought.

    Is It Sellable?

    Now, don’t mistake “sellable” for “selling out” (not that it’s really an option anymore with ebooks and POD). The point is to produce something that can genuinely hold its own in the competitive world of publishing. That means:

      • A clear, readable layout.
      • A consistent and engaging tone.
      • A professional-level manuscript that doesn’t distract readers with errors.

    The business side of editing and writing may be the least glamorous part of the journey, but it’s also the part that makes the dream real. 

    The Final Result: A Real Book

    By the time we reached the proofreading stage, the manuscript had gone through several transformations. All of them subtle, none of them destructive. It was recognisably Compliant Hearts, but sharper. Pacing fixed. Repetitions trimmed. Dialogue tightened. 

    Proofreading was the last step. It was Shaun’s chance to approve all the tweaks and catch any remaining gremlins (or introduce new ones. See the next section). I reviewed the final version with one eye on the original and one on the calendar. 

    Did it still sound like Shaun? Yes.
    Was it technically clean? Yes.
    Was it ready to meet the world? Absolutely.

    Our Gratitiude Moment

    Every great collaboration deserves a moment of sentimentality, and ours came with a typo.

    Just before the proofreading stage, Shaun added the Acknowledgments section to Compliant Hearts. Since I hadn’t seen it during the earlier rounds, I only came across it at the very end. There it was, glowing with warmth and appreciation:

    That’s right. Gratitiude. Not gratitude.

    Cue the kind of laughter that only comes when two exhausted people hit the home stretch of a long project. After months of editing, fact-checking, and negotiations, the final thank-you note included a typo. In the editor’s name, no less.

    We kept it, of course. Not in the published book (we’re not that cheeky), but in our shared memory of what it means to create something together: full of effort and heart, and sometimes some accidental extra letters.

    It’s now our favourite in-joke. A reminder that even the most polished projects have their moments of imperfection. And that’s okay. Because behind every book are real people, real collaboration, and, in our case, a whole lot of gratitiude.

    Shaun’s reaction to the gratitiude moment

    Takeaways for Other Writers and Editors

    If you’ve made it this far, first of all: gratitiude. Second, here are some parting thoughts from each of us. A mixture of tips, truths, and reminders we picked up along the way.

    From Shaun for Writers

      • Flawed is fine. Remember, you’re only human. It’s part of the journey to learn and grow.
      • The editor almost always has a point. They’re technically your first reader, so listen when they point something out. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they’re right.
      • Prioritise your audience. There’s a reason you’re writing what you’re writing. Stay true to who you’re writing for.
      • Remember to enjoy the journey. It’s hard work, and I know you’ll probably want to pull out your hair sometimes, but you’re doing it because you love it. Don’t quit.

    From Michelle for Editors

      • Start with a full read-through. Context is everything, so don’t start snipping without knowing what the full tapestry looks like.
      • Respect the author’s vision. You’re here to elevate the book, not rewrite it in your voice.
      • Be honest, clear, and kind. Editorial feedback should be helpful, not cryptic or crushing.
      • Keep feedback organised. Use in-text comments, summary notes, and reports so you don’t miss anything. 
      • Maintain professionalism, even with friends. You can laugh about typos later. First, finish the work properly.

    Writer and Editor Collaboration Done Right

    Writer and editor collaboration doesn’t mean one person fixes another’s work. Each person brings their expertise to the table to serve the story. When both sides understand their roles, respect the process, and communicate clearly, editing becomes less about correction and more about refinement.

    So, whether you’re a writer handing over a first draft or an editor opening a new manuscript, the goal is the same: to make the work stronger without losing what makes it unique. That requires trust, yes, but also structure, boundaries, and a willingness to ask the right questions (and not panic when you don’t have the answers yet).

    Shaun van Rensburg

    Shaun van Rensburg lives in South Africa with his cat. Over the years, he has published several short stories in various anthologies. Most recently, his first novel was published through his imprint, Pink Dove Books.

    Michelle Meyer

    Michelle Meyer is the director and head editor of Blue Leaf Editing. With a background in publishing, bookselling, and marketing, she aims to turn all the content she edits into its best version. In her spare time, Michelle reads and watches as much horror and fantasy content as she can.