Fiction Editing

Fiction editing is no less rigorous than academic editing. It requires familiarity with the conventions of genre and the nuts and bolts of narrative craft, in addition to familiarity with the publishing landscape, querying/submission process, and the unique challenge of writing the story that only you can tell in a market that may not want to make room for you.

The thing about fiction, though, is that we get to break more of the rules.

And in speculative fiction–which is the majority of what I work on–breaking the rules is part of the landscape.

To that end, my fiction editing:

  • welcomes your story, however you want to tell it, and invests in raising your voice, strengthening your narrative, and valuing your lived experience;
  • takes an empathetic, rejuvenating, and holistic approach to feedback, aiming to ask generative questions and make suggestions that inspire creative thought and sparkling revisions;
  • recognizes texts that explore depths and speak to trauma, but also texts that rest, play, mend, love, and thrive;
  • teases genre conventions, making space for cross-genre work, a light hand for the rules, and exploratory narratives;
  • bears in mind that there is a person behind each piece I work on, and that the authors changing the world are often (multiply) marginalized and balancing transparency and vulnerability against high-pressure expectations and gatekeeping.

I also recognize that many writers who are in the early stages of seeking publication are doing so under the terrible and glorious weight of hope and often working around family responsibilities and day jobs, writing in the spare hours.

Therefore, my fiction editing also:

  • takes into account your priorities and your quality/frequency of writing time;
  • doesn’t create extra, unnecessary work for you, but rather gets right down into problems and possible solutions;
  • prioritizes clarity, so you know exactly what to do when you sit down to the work of revision;
  • encourages you at every possible turn.

If that all sounds like the kind of editor you want and the type of work you value, please contact me!

If you’re looking for a bit more information before you send that email

I work on YA, new adult, and adult (mostly) speculative fiction at short story, novella, and novel lengths. I can tell you that much definitively.

Then…things get a little fuzzy.

The deal is, my particular knack for fiction editing is in organic character development–helping you build characters who have lives off the page, who really move through the text, who badly want things, and who stay with readers even after the story is over–and there’s no one genre that loves its characters more than any other. Great characters, or characters with the potential to be great, are everywhere.

My eclectic desires, governed by this search for great characters, are no where more evident than in my tastes for short stories, which come down to this:

Did you write a short story? Does it value its characters? Then I want to read it.

Simple as.

I will read everything from neo-noir sci fi to slipstream fabulism, mythic retellings to dystopian near futures, folklore inspired romps to seething anti-colonial secondary worlds.

For examples of this variety of work, check out the stories by my kickass Clarion West ’19 cohort–many of which I critiqued. You can also find great speculative fiction in online magazines Lightspeed, Uncanny, Strange Horizons, and Fantasy Magazine. And check out FIYAH Literary Magazine for award-winning Black speculative fiction and khōréō for gorgeous stories by immigrant and diaspora writers.

***If you would rather have an editor who matches your particular marginalization and/or identity, I hear that. Please still feel free to contact me for a short story skim, and I will try my best to match you with a colleague you might vibe with.

When it comes to novels and novellas, I do have more marked preferences. Although, still, I am willing to be surprised:

  • First on my list is fantasy. Within that huge field, I love primary world fantasy most of all–our world with a twist, whether that’s contemporary or historical. I like my secondary fantasies cozy, as opposed to epic. I adore a good fantasy romance. And I have a soft spot for urban fantasies that take place in lesser known cities where the city itself is a character ripe for exploration.
  • After that, I dream of editing excellent queer romance. Very rarely, though, do I pick up a romance that is strictly contemporary. I prefer romance that cuts across other genres. So, fantasy romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, witchy romance, even romance with elements of horror. I read all spice levels–whatever suits the love story and extends the conversations between characters. But I am picky about my rom-coms.
  • I also dig a gothic story, whether that’s the traditional type with 19th-century trappings, or something contemporary. I’m a huge sucker for regional gothic, with Southern being the obvious region. But I’d love to see gothic stories out of unexpected places, and my kingdom for more gothics with a sense of humor.
  • Folklore is another interest of mine, both traditional re-tellings, riffs on traditions, and invented traditions. I love the tone of it, the cultural underpinnings, the way it moves across time, the green and gold, or red and black of it.

And then, I just love when all of those things crash together and books fly out of the collision and lodge in my brain.

I can’t stop thinking about The Binding by Bridget Collins, with its m/m slow burn romance, poetic language, and reflections on the shape of care giving. Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire changed my life with the first ace/aro protagonist I’d ever met and a story shaped entirely around friendships and protections. I listen to Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo at least once a year. It’s a comfort read, which is weird, because it’s dark, sultry, emotionally and physically raucous and sexy, and also anxious to its angsty, gothic core.

I’ve also loved Piranesi by Susanna Clarke–half dark academia, half fabulism, all depressing. I could not put down The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson, with a central couple so sweet and compelling in the midst of sheer horror. I will read anything by KJ Charles, Alexis Hall, Cat Sebastian, Allie Therin, TJ Klune, and Freya Marske. Horror with a sense of humor has my number, most recently Revelator by Darryl Gregory and The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix. And I love a good soak in a druidic world, like those crafted by Emily Tesh and Juliet Marillier.