Professional fault-finder; CringeBot; We are all on the decoy plane: Newsletter 19 August 2026

Newsletter 164. Why do people pay to have their work insulted? Plus, Google pays for Spirit Airlines’ data, the White House’s gender confusion, three people to follow and three books to read.

Please, sir, may I have another?

A popular meme suggests: “Describe your job badly.” With that in mind, here’s what I do for a living:

I find fault with the work you put your heart and soul into, then manipulate you into paying to be insulted.

I’m a developmental editor. And it’s profoundly strange to get paid to tell people what they don’t want to hear.

Here’s my inner dialogue as I read your manuscript:

Somewhere 14 words ago, the subject of this sentence was singular, but this verb is plural.

It’s 2026. And dangling modifiers are still wrong.

Get rid of that em dash. Not because of AI. Because it’s a lazily written run-on sentence.

Who’s the audience again? You keep changing your mind.

No one cares about how hard you worked on this chapter. Stop rambling about that. Delete.

The Oxford comma is a religious belief. So pick a religion and stick to it.

Didn’t you call this idea by a different name in Chapter 4?

You’re boring me. This paragraph is just blah-blah-blah with no actual meaning. Let’s just cut both of these paragraphs.

Nice story. Sorta seems to prove the opposite of the point you’re trying to make.

Have to check that quote, yup, George Bernard Shaw never said that.

“Leverage” is a fine word. You don’t seem to know what it means. And you’ve used it 137 times in the last four chapters.

I can’t turn this mental commentary off. It happens every time I read something. But as a professional, I can’t just share what I think with you and send a bill. I’d hurt your feelings. And my job isn’t to annoy you, it’s to help you.

I need to engage you in the effort to make your own manuscript better. This means using my experience and skill make the text work better for readers, and getting you, the writer, to join me in that task. If I take your work seriously, you’ll realize how much value it has and take it just as seriously.

So I consistently follow these principles:

1. Every piece of writing has value. Identify what that value is for both the writer and the reader. Tell the writer what you perceived as that value. That earns you credibility and makes the writer more receptive to being told what they did it wrong.
2. Every edit needs a reason behind it. It can’t just be “sounds wrong.” An experienced editor knows why it’s wrong, preferably from the viewpoint of the reader.
3. Except for the most minor edits, explain why you’re suggesting an edit. “There’s a logical hole in your argument, the reader won’t believe you unless you prove this intermediate point.” Or “You can’t make up unconventional spellings; each time the reader sees this, they’ll stop and wonder why you did this.” Or “This story is compelling. It would draw the reader in even more if you put it at the top of the chapter.” Considering and then writing down these explanations is work, but it’s essential to engaging the writer in the effort to make the manuscript better.
4. Don’t identify a problem without suggesting a solution (or several possible solutions). The best editors are skilled and experienced writers, so they have a diverse bag of tricks to bring to every challenge. Share those skilled tricks with the author.
5. See broad patterns. One mixed metaphor is problematic. Ten means that the author is flailing as they explain a fundamental concept. The same applies to any problem repeated throughout the manuscript.
6. Have a bias for deletion. Often the best thing you can do for a piece of text is to get rid of the bits that aren’t adding much. What remains will be stronger. And shorter is nearly always better.
7. Use humor, gently. Some mistakes are funny, seen in the right light. Writers are witty; they often appreciate seeing the absurdity of what they wrote revealed.
8. Teach. Great editors don’t just make writing better, they make writers better. Writers who learn from their mistakes grow as writers.
9. Empower. Remind the writer that their job is not to implement your edits. It’s to decide how to respond to the problems you point out in their own unique way.

I live these principles every day. And the thing that amazes me most is how grateful people are for being told what they did wrong and how they can improve.

I recently edited a chapter by a brilliant thinker and writer, let’s call them Pat. Pat’s first eight chapters had been full of clever insights. But Pat’s new chapter was shallow, seemed to have lost track of what the audience needed, and was too polite compared to the spicy tone of some of the rest of the book. I suggested a total rewrite of the chapter and a return to the snarky tone, then worried about how the client would react.

A couple days later, I got this email back:

I read through this feedback a few times and I hear you. I’m going to revise and will let you know when I’ve got a new version. Thank you for making time for it and the detailed, clear feedback.

Cheers

Spicy, snarky Pat

This was rewarding to read but not unusual. Committed writers are consistently grateful for thoughtful criticism.

When I worked at Forrester, a big part of my job was editing the analysts who were ready to make the step up to big ideas. I could see the potential of what they were writing, and the ways in which they were falling short of their promise. My feedback was challenging and detailed. These writers complained bitterly about it. “You are making me work harder on this than on any piece I’ve ever done before,” they would say.

Then, after the work was completed in as powerful and influential a way as we could make it, I was often surprised to hear a completely different sentiment.

“Could you possibly work with me on my next piece?”

Great results take work. That work demands experience, diligence, and a commitment to quality from the editor, and a writer willing to do the work to turn good ideas into great writing.

Amazingly, committed writers seem willing to pay generously for this kind of feedback.

Describe my job badly: “I show people where they fall short of greatness and give them tips on how to fall somewhat less short on their next effort.”

Not a bad vocation.

News for writers and other who think

Google bought all the data of the defunct Spirit Airlines for $10 million. They appear to believe that an AI trained on all the emails, data, and conversations from within a real company will get smarter about how people work. Given the bare-bones screw-the-customer esthetic of Spirit Airlines, I wonder if Google Gemini is about to become a penny-pinching corner-cutting creep.

Cranky editorial guy Jeevan Sivasubramaniam is putting on a free seminar on libel, fair use, and other legal issues for authors on September 23. It should be well worth listening to. Sign up.

After decades in the CIA and regularly briefing senior officials including VP Mike Pence, Julia Curlee was forced out of the White House for one reason: she is trans. Read her story in The Atlantic and ask yourself: Is this decision making our country better?

The LinkedIn CringeBot 3000 will craft a bro-hard AI post for you on any topic. Sample: “Here’s what nobody tells you: the piece you almost didn’t publish because it felt ‘too basic’ is currently being read by someone in Bratislava who found it on page three of Google. Page THREE. Content marketing isn’t a campaign. It’s infrastructure.” Gag me. Please use for entertainment purposes only.

This (from Boston):

Three people to follow

Erin Servais , training editors how to be efficient with AI

Matt Fitzgerald , travel writer and slop spotter

Andrea Bartz , writer of thrillers, copy, articles, lots of smart stuff

Three books to read

These listings include affiliate links; any sales may pay me a teeny-tiny bounty.

Days of Miracle and Wonder: Paul Simon and the Trials and Triumphs of Graceland by Ashley Kahn (Atria, 2026). Paul Simon’s “Graceland” album upended the music scene forty years ago. Kahn explores the legacy of his controversial collaboration with South African artists under apartheid.

The Nerd Reich: Silicon Valley Fascism and the War on Democracy by Gil Duran (Simon & Schuster, 2026). Are tech CEOs trying to replace government with rule by influential corporations?

Are They Dead Yet?: The Art of the Obit by Sam Roberts (Bloomsbury, 2026). Reflections from a master obituary writer. “I almost died laughing.” — Roz Chast.