Editing your manuscript with an agent… what to expect


I’ve been editing my manuscript with my agent, Julie, preparing it to go out on submission.

When an agent offers representation, author and agent will often work together to whip the manuscript into shape. The degree of involvement varies from one agent (and book) to the next, but because of the law of diminishing returns, it makes sense to have your script as polished as possible before it lands on a publisher’s desk.

Here’s how the editorial process worked for me.

The feedback

Julie began by going through the script a second time after her initial read-through, line-editing and marking up the script with comments and questions.

In addition, she sent me an editorial report identifying some thematic issues, followed by feedback broken down by viewpoint character, which often consisted of filtering the broader themes into each of my viewpoint character’s words and actions.

The discussion

Once I’d had time to digest the report, Julie and I discussed her comments and talked through some ideas about how to implement her suggestions.

Many writers seeking representation worry unduly about this stage – that it is typically antagonistic, with the agent trying to change the writer’s intention and the writer digging their heels in to protect a sacrosanct text. I’d suggest this isn’t the case for the majority of author-agent relationships. It certainly hasn’t been my experience.

An agent takes a chance on a manuscript because they feel strongly enough to champion it. That’s a real vote of confidence. And both parties want the best outcome – a stronger book. If you disagree on the ‘how’ or you can’t see a way forward, that’s when you open a dialogue.

For me, reading and discussing Julie’s comments focused my attention on the weak points in the story and helped me understand why I’d never quite managed to make them work. I could see the effect the changes she outlined would have on the whole. There was only one question she raised that I didn’t know how to execute. It was an alternative ending – one I’d tried before I submitted the manuscript – so I’d already had difficulty making it work. I explained that, we talked it through and came to a resolution that felt right. It truly was as straightforward as that.

In my writing process – and I suspect the same may be true for many writers – some scenes just flow straight from the pen and onto the page, usually at some silent, still hour of night, when the censoring part of my brain has given up and gone to sleep. The characters seem to tell me what to write, and they move effortlessly from A to B. Other scenes have to be carved out of solid rock. The action beats are a struggle and the characters end up in a dialogue that doesn’t lead anywhere. It can take weeks to bash it all into shape.

When it came to the mark-up, without exception, the scenes that just flowed were untouched. It was the hard-wrought chapters that Julie flagged – clearly the angst was still a part of the palimpsest.

Getting down to work

Where previous self-edits have sometimes felt piecemeal, professional editorial guidance and support has brought greater focus and confidence. I could see what we were aiming for, and was excited to get started.

But, of course, some parts of the editorial process are more enjoyable than others. If you’re starting out on edits, here’s my advice.

  1. Let it rest. Deadlines permitting, give yourself some distance from the manuscript before embarking on the editing process. Because I’d been submitting my book to agents, I had a few months’ natural hiatus. Looking back, I was glad I’d let us both rest – myself and the text – before I tackled any edits.
  2. Plan your edits. It’s tempting to dive in, but sometimes making a seemingly small change at the start ricochets through the book, and you spend time chasing your tail trying to fix it. Stick with it. Having a table of chapters and themes helped me map out where each thematic change or addition would have an impact later on.
  3. Save your easy wins for when you need them. Line edits and stylistic tics can be tackled when you’re tired or you’ve hit a wall with the bigger stuff. Keep them in reserve.
  4. Enjoy spending time with your characters. I’ve been writing and editing my book for a few years, but this time around, I was aware that my days spent with these characters might be numbered. Writing new scenes when you already know the players inside out is a gift, and something you’ll truly appreciate when you have to start a new work and get to know brand new people. Having my characters say and do new things, in the name of strengthening the existing story, was far and away my favourite part of the process.

So, my message is: embrace the process, both with your agent, and when working on your own. Like many elements of writing, it isn’t always easy, but it is incredibly rewarding.


Photo by Green Chameleon on Unsplash

Understanding infidelity

The recent breach of security at Ashley Madison has thrown infidelity into the media spotlight once again. But what can we learn about the way we understand affairs?


I began researching infidelity about four years ago. My novel, Unsteady Souls, is the result. I believe that infidelity, and the emotions and behaviours behind it, are not well understood in our society. The result is often either the glamourising of affairs, or utter condemnation without reprieve. This lack of understanding is one good reason for the prevalence of extra-marital affairs. The past shows us that whenever we fail to comprehend human behaviour, we expose ourselves to the same vulnerability. In other words, when we don’t learn from our mistakes – and the mistakes of others – history has a tendency to repeat itself.

I have never been in the position of any of my characters, but I have read hundreds of real stories from all sides, as well as numerous articles and books by professionals.

It was interesting to read how many people’s views changed when infidelity became a reality about the person they loved and had built a life with, rather than an abstract. Or when people realised what they had done and were at a loss to understand how they could have done it or how to address the changes needed in themselves.

Some of the behaviours in infidelity are counter-intuitive and incredibly difficult to understand, but I wanted to write an infidelity story as realistically as possible, with a journey of understanding for each of the characters, whilst showing the devastation those behaviours can cause.

There are many people rebuilding their lives after infidelity, whether alone or together, and whichever side of it someone is on, I’ve seen that it takes immense courage to work towards reconciliation or to end the marriage, because it often means either accepting a terrible betrayal, or working every day on the darkest parts of oneself and living with the guilt of the pain caused.

Unsteady Souls is a creative, not a didactic, work, but my hope is that the treatment of infidelity in the novel will broaden understanding of affairs, and encourage us to avoid a simplistic view of a very complicated subject.

Annie, I’m sorry

As Ian McEwan recognises in Atonement, authors often do terrible things to their characters, in the name of good writing. Rarely do they apologise. So here is my apology to one of my main characters, Annie.


Annie, I’m sorry.

I’ve betrayed you just as much as he has. More, because you told me your innermost thoughts and I didn’t let you in on what was happening with him until it was too late. I put you on what the natives call the roller coaster from hell, just to explore how it feels, just to watch it burn, just to try to sculpt the prose to do justice to this whole sorry mess.

I wanted to see what it felt like. Does that put me on a par with the gossip-ridden bitches I sent you out for coffee with? Maybe. But think about what we’re up against. The Notebook-esque idea that you jump in and tear apart a marriage if you feel like you have a prior claim; the supposed “glamour” of infidelity. We’ve got an ugly truth to tell. We’ve got a war to wage, Annie, and you’re my soldier.

You may not feel strong now, because I’ve put you in the dirt. Quite literally. You’ve got to spend at least part of a chapter face down in a flower bed.

But know this.

I want to grow you up again, make you strong, watch you fight back.

You know it’s worth fighting for.

Keep going. Please.

I’m sorry.