Dear Fiction Writer,

Permit me, dear writer, to extend my sincerest felicitations.

Your manuscript has endured a most demanding courtship: revisions both bold and hesitant, moments of great certainty followed by equally great doubt, and—if rumor speaks true—the occasional late-night refreshment set perilously close to the page. That it has survived at all is a testament to your perseverance.

And now, at last, you stand steadfast, ready to place it into the hands of an editor.

Before you do, allow me—most respectfully—to share a few observations. They are not strictures, nor judgments, but small attentions which, when observed, tend to make the editorial process not only smoother, but decidedly more pleasant for all concerned.

Presenting Oneself Well
It is an acknowledged truth (if rarely spoken aloud) that a manuscript, like a guest at a respectable gathering, benefits greatly from arriving properly arranged. Consistent chapter headings, uniform spacing, and a single, sensible font do not announce themselves loudly—but their absence most certainly does.

When the page is orderly, the mind may attend entirely to the story. Nothing pulls the eye away; nothing interrupts the rhythm. Your editor is thus free to engage fully with your words, rather than pausing to wonder whether a sudden shift in formatting is intentional or merely accidental. One might say that clarity of presentation is the first courtesy a manuscript extends.

Naming and Ordering of Files
Here I beg your indulgence, for this matter—though small—has been known to cause disproportionate distress. A manuscript entitled Final_FINAL3_ReallyFinal is rarely, in fact … final. Nor does it inspire confidence in the reader charged with determining which version has earned their full attention.

A single, clearly labeled file is a remarkable kindness beyond measure. It spares your editor unnecessary deliberation and allows them to step directly into the work itself, without first navigating a maze of nearly identical documents. Such consideration never goes unnoticed, even if it is seldom remarked upon.

Removing Minor Distractions
Every manuscript carries remnants of its making: doubled spaces, notes once meant only for yourself, placeholders whose cleverness has not aged as well as hoped. These are not moral failings. They are simply signs of a work that has lived a full life before reaching this stage.

Yet removing them before sending the manuscript onward is a most polite and quiet act of generosity. Each small distraction, however easily corrected, asks for attention that might otherwise remain happily within the story. Clearing them away allows your editor to read with uninterrupted focus—and your narrative to unfold without needless interruption.

Accompanying One’s Manuscript with a Note
Might I also respectfully request a brief message, offered with sincerity, to set the tone for everything that follows. You need not explain yourself at length, nor defend the choices you have made. A few lines noting any areas of concern, particular sensitivities, or hopes for the edit are more than sufficient. And an expression of appreciation—though never required—is always gracefully received.

Such a note serves much the same purpose as a courteous introduction: it frames the exchange and reminds both parties that they are, in this endeavor, very much on the same side.

Why These Attentions Matter More Than You Might Suppose
It is tempting to believe that these details are trifles, scarcely worth consideration beside the greater labor of writing the book itself. Yet they truly serve a singular purpose: they keep the focus where it belongs.

A well-prepared manuscript allows the editor to devote their full attention to clarity, consistency, and the reading experience—rather than to preventable distractions. Time is used wisely. Energy is spent where it matters most. And the collaboration proceeds with far less friction than one might fear. Talent may earn admiration, it is true—but preparation has a remarkable way of ensuring that everyone remains cheerfully disposed throughout the process.

A Small Broadside for Your Convenience
Should you prefer a more concise reminder of these courtesies, I have prepared a downloadable manuscript prep checklist, suitable for a final glance before you send your work on its way. It includes notes on formatting, file naming, clearing distractions, and composing a brief message—nothing more than what we have already discussed, neatly gathered in one place for your ultimate convenience.

Download the Manuscript Prep Checklist

A Postscript, If I May
Preparing your manuscript for editing is by no means an act of surrender, nor a confession that one has lost all sense of propriety. Rather, it is a small but distinguished demonstration of care—for your story, for your editor, and, naturally, for the fortunate reader who shall one day turn these pages with eager anticipation.

With but a modicum of attention—and perhaps a discreet cup of tea at hand—you transform what might otherwise resemble a nervous, fluttering handoff into a moment of assured composure. Your manuscript will arrive at your editor’s desk ready: not to be chastised, nor scolded for the occasional errant comma, but to be read attentively and with every courtesy due a tale so carefully wrought.

And take heart: a manuscript treated with such civility reflects upon its author in the most favorable light. It whispers, rather than declares, that the creator of these words is both conscientious and charming, capable of wit and discernment in equal measure.

Yours, with unabashed admiration for every word you have wrought into existence,
— Susan

P.S. Full disclosure: my creative writing brain snuck in while I was writing this, so a little fun may have escaped onto the page. 🙂