Many new writers use the words revision and editing as if they mean the same thing. They don’t. Revision is where you reshape the story itself—rewriting scenes, adjusting structure, and strengthening the core narrative. Editing comes later, once the story works, and focuses on polishing the language so the manuscript reads clearly and smoothly.
Typing “The End” feels like the finish line—but it’s actually the start of the next phase. Before you send your manuscript to an editor, there’s important work to do first. Let the story rest, read it again with fresh eyes, fix the obvious issues, and understand what type of editing your book really needs. The more polished your manuscript is before it reaches an editor, the more valuable—and effective—the editing process will be.
Most manuscripts don’t fail because the author lacks talent—they fail because Chapter One doesn’t do its job. Chapter One isn’t a warm-up, a weather report, or a backstory dump. It’s a promise to the reader about what kind of story they’re about to experience. If nothing is off-balance, nothing is at risk, and nothing is changing, the reader is left asking the most dangerous question in fiction: Why am I here?
Writers sometimes send manuscripts to an editor hoping the edit will “make it work.” But when the foundation of the story is cracked — weak character arcs, passive scenes, or conflict happening offstage — no amount of line editing can fix it. Editing refines what already works; it doesn’t rebuild the structure. Knowing the difference can save writers money, frustration, and a lot of misplaced hope.
Setting isn’t wallpaper. It’s the emotional engine under every scene you write. A confession uttered beneath stained-glass saints is a completely different moment than one whispered in the soft half-light of a bedroom — same words, wildly different meaning. If a scene feels limp, nine times out of ten the setting is the culprit. Make the room work just as hard as the characters, and suddenly the whole story sharpens.
Writers love to worry about swearing — usually more than their characters do. The truth? Profanity isn’t “good” or “bad.” It’s a tool. A sharp one. Used well, it cuts cleanly through tension, reveals character, or snaps a moment into focus. Used poorly, it just bleeds all over the page.
In this post, Mark breaks down when swearing works, when it absolutely doesn’t, how genre affects your choices, and why every curse word has to be earned. If your characters are going to swear, make sure they mean it.
Readers aren’t toddlers in need of hand-holding—they’re highly skilled story-decoders who’ve been reading between the lines since grade school. They don’t need your theme underlined, highlighted, and surrounded by interpretive dance. In fact, the moment you over-explain, you kill the magic. Trust them to catch the subtext, feel the tension, and assemble the clues. Not only will your story be stronger for it—your readers will love you for letting them play along.
AI has officially gone mainstream—and that matters more than you think. This week on the blog, we’re looking at what the AI tipping point means for indie authors (hint: it’s not time to panic, but it is time to get your author platform AI-friendly). If your site doesn’t tell a chatbot what kind of stories you write, you’re already losing visibility.
Let’s fix that.
Writing a story without understanding your main character’s arc is like driving cross-country blindfolded — you might arrive somewhere, but odds are it won’t be where you meant to go. Every protagonist travels an emotional and psychological path, changing (or refusing to change) because of the story’s events. When you understand that inner journey — and how it collides with the outer, plot-driven one — every scene gains purpose, every choice deepens meaning, and your rewrite count drops dramatically. Know your hero’s lie, the truth they need to learn, and what the story will throw at them to force that transformation. Everything else flows from there.
A “reasonable” villain might seem believable—but it’s also the fastest way to kill tension in your story. The best antagonists aren’t fair opponents; they’re towering, terrifying forces that make the hero dig deep and evolve. From Goliath to the Borg, it’s the impossible odds that make victory unforgettable.
