What is a developmental editor’s “edit memo” and why is it essential?

The developmental edit of a book manuscript should come back with two files: the electronically marked-up (redlined) manuscript and an edit memo.

The edit memo is crucial. It is a document written directly from the editor to the writer, describing the general issues with the manuscript. It not only explains what needs changing, but why.

I’m editing a 70,000-word manuscript right now. It’s excellent, well-organized, and full of value. The writer is clearly intelligent. Of course, it’s not perfect. The edit memo is likely to be three or four pages long.

If even a good manuscript needs a 3-page edit memo, what could it possibly include?

What’s in an edit memo?

Simply put, an edit memo includes anything that affects multiple parts of the manuscript. That includes both global issues and issues that would require rewriting multiple pages or chapters.

The editor should justify every criticism or comment in the edit memo by citing what’s best for the reader.

What sort of issues does the edit memo include?

• Structural problems. The edit memo addresses the organization of the chapters and whether some might need to be split, combined, or rearranged.
• Chapter-level patterns. For example, should each chapter start with a case study? How and where are other people’s research cited? Where are recommendations? Are there common patterns in chapter titles, chapter openers, or material at the end of chapters? This is where the editor points out inconsistencies and recommends a common way to address them.
• Repetition of concepts. Authors tend to cite the same examples in multiple places. It’s good practice to limit the amount of repetition, and when you do use it, to use commentary like “As I first mentioned in Chapter 5 . . . ” This helps prevent reader reactions like “What, Netflix HR policies again?”
• Writing “tics.” These are formulations that get used so often that they draw attention to themselves. For example, if every other paragraph includes the formulation, “It’s not xxx. It’s actually yyy,” the reader is going to notice the repetition more than the content. Writers also tend to lean on phrases like “Here’s the main point,” that are distracting and can easily be deleted. These writing structures also will cause the reader to question whether AI wrote parts of the text, even if it wasn’t the source of the problem. Tics also include words that are repeated too frequently (like the manuscript I read a little ways back that used the word “leverage” hundreds of times).
• Terminology issues. Technical terms and acronyms need special treatment. They should be explained on first use, for example, “API (application programming interface).” After that, either use the spelled out words or the acronym, but not both. Other technical terms need to be explained once and then used consistently. This list of terms becomes part of a “style sheet” that’s valuable not just in this pass, but as information for the copy editor later in the editing process.
• Other consistency issues. How are em-dashes, colons, and bullets treated? What about sidebars? Footnotes? Terms in quotes? While these are usually issues for the copy editor, the developmental editor will often also make note of inconsistencies that will annoy the reader.

Why the edit memo is essential

The individual edits and comments in a marked-up manuscript often don’t reflect the overall patterns. A writer could easily make those edits and miss the larger issues. It’s much better for the writer to understand where the problems in a manuscript are coming from — for example, insecurities that the writer has, inconsistent ways of looking at the world, or simply the fact that they forgot that they’d already explained something elsewhere in the text — so they can make edits from a perspective of knowledge, not just to check “correctness” boxes.

That knowledge also helps make up for editor’s imperfections. As an editor, I might miss marking one out of ten similar issues, or mark it differently, since I’m only human without a photographic memory. But if the writer understands the global issues, they can fix the problem even in the places where I missed it.

The edit memo is also reassuring to the writer. It tells them “This is in fine shape, except for these issues — and the issues are fixable.”

Could AI do this?

This is a question I’ve been pondering for the last year or two.

At least for a while, I think the answer is, “no.”

AI may be able to detect every instance of passive voice, but wouldn’t understand where it is a bigger problem or how best to fix it.

AI may notice that there are four heading-like entries at the top of each chapter, but won’t necessarily know how best to rationalize them and what’s most important to the writer and the reader.

Much of my editorial feedback reflects where I have become confused by the text. If I, a moderately technical and intelligent reader doing a close read, am having trouble parsing something, the writer almost certainly needs to clarify it. Could an AI know which passages aren’t clear enough? I doubt it.

I have a feeling that AI is going to be a more and more useful tool for editors. But I can’t imagine what I’m doing being replaced by a machine.

Of course, that’s what everyone who’s ever been replaced by a machine tends to say.