In this article, you will discover why self-editing is a critical part of the self-publishing process. Think of your book as ‘draft zero’ until you have completed the first round of writing and self-editing and the manuscript is ready for others to read for the first time.

Write draft zero

In 2001, Terry Pratchett was interviewed about his writing process. He explained that he liked to remind himself that the initial writing phase was just one step in the process.

“I call this draft zero, telling myself how the story is supposed to go.”

— Terry Pratchett, The Guardian

As a writer, this is your first milestone. You are aiming to get the story out of your head and into a manuscript.

The story will be ugly, with rough edges, lots of holes and sections that will be begging for their lives.

That’s OK.

Writing is step one; editing is step two.

You should be writing, editing and revising.

You are not supposed to have a nice, clean, reader-friendly story at this point. You should have a story that is begging for a good edit.

What should a self-edit achieve?

So you have the basic story written and you are ready for the first round of edits. What are you looking to achieve? When will you know your manuscript is ready for feedback?

The goal of the edit is to create a ‘clean’ manuscript to give to friends and family for feedback. Here, ‘clean’ means that you have done the following:

  1. Removed all obvious sentence-level issues.
  2. Made the manuscript consistent.
  3. Spotted and fixed all plot and story issues.

Here’s the thing to remember: you can only fix the things you know are problems. You can’t fix the things you didn’t know you didn’t know. That’s the point of the feedback.

For example, let’s say that you didn’t know that you should be showing, not telling. If you didn’t know this was a problem, it makes no difference how many rounds of self-editing you undertake: you are never going to spot the issue.

This means that getting to draft one is about fixing all the problems you know exist.

Getting from draft zero to first draft will probably take several rounds of self-editing. Don’t get discouraged. This is the writing process, and all authors have to go through the same journey.

With this in mind, think of the self-editing process as a three-step affair.

  1. First pass: clean up your sentences.
  2. Create a style sheet for consistency.
  3. Second pass: address the story-level problems.

Each pass might take more than one read-through. The whole process might be a bit of a slog, even painful and laborious at times. However, this is some of the most important work you can do as an author, and it can make a real difference to your manuscript.

First pass: clean up your sentences

The first thing you should do with your manuscript is remove the obvious typos, grammatical errors and mistakes in individual sentences.

There’s no shortcut to this. You need to read through your book, sentence by sentence, fixing the errors you find. Look for missing words, accidental repetition, changes in tense and sentences whose meaning is unclear.

Some of the work will depend on the kind of book you are writing. In fiction, check how dialogue is punctuated and formatted, and make sure you have used capitalisation correctly. In non-fiction, check that sources are referenced consistently, diagrams and charts have labels, and the other small details have been addressed.

Software can help with this process, alongside a few simple reading techniques. Here are some options to consider:

  1. Start with your word processor’s built-in spell checker. Run it through the whole manuscript, even if you have been correcting words as you type. Set the checking language to match your book, such as British or American English. Review flagged words carefully, especially character names, invented places and specialist terms. Use the grammar checker too, if your software includes one.
  2. Use Grammarly for another check. It can flag spelling, grammar and punctuation problems, as well as suggest changes for clarity. Read the explanation for each suggestion so you understand what it is asking you to change.
  3. Try ProWritingAid. Alongside spelling and grammar checks, its reports can help you spot repetition, awkward sentences and inconsistencies. Work through one kind of issue at a time to keep the process manageable.
  4. Use Hemingway Editor to review readability. It highlights areas such as difficult sentences, adverbs and passive voice. These highlights can help you find passages that deserve another look, but they do not automatically mean something is wrong.
  5. Read your work aloud, or listen to it with text-to-speech. Hearing the words can help you catch missing words, repeated phrases and sentences that are difficult to follow. Follow the manuscript as you listen and pause to make corrections.
  6. Search for mistakes you know you make. Use your word processor’s Find function to check recurring misspellings, double spaces or words you often confuse. Check each occurrence in context before replacing it.

Don’t automatically accept every change the software suggests. Editing tools can be overzealous, especially when they move beyond spelling and grammar into questions of style. Trying to remove every warning can flatten your voice, change your meaning or make dialogue sound unnatural.

For example, a character might say, “We was just leaving.” A grammar checker may suggest “We were just leaving.” That would be a sensible correction if you had made an accidental mistake in standard narration. But if “we was” is a deliberate part of the character’s speech, changing it would take something away from their voice.

The same care applies to style suggestions. A long sentence may be clear and well paced, and an adverb may add exactly the detail you need. Read the suggestion, consider the surrounding passage and accept it only if it improves what you are trying to say. If you don’t understand the suggested correction, check the rule before deciding. For more on improving clarity, voice and flow, read my guide to line editing.

Create a style sheet for consistency

I have listed this as a separate step, but in practice it will be part of your first pass through the manuscript.

The goal is to create a ‘style sheet’: a separate document that records the choices you make as you edit. These might be unusual spellings or invented terms, but they can also be everyday decisions about punctuation, numbers and capitalisation. The aim is to give yourself a reference point so you can keep those choices consistent throughout the book.

Whenever you make a decision that will apply elsewhere in the manuscript, add it to your style sheet.

For example, imagine that your story features a café called The Copper Kettle. During your first pass, you notice that you have also called it the Copper Kettle and the Copper kettle. You decide that ‘The’ is part of its official name and record this entry:

Café name: The Copper Kettle. Capitalise all three words when using the full name. Use lowercase for general references such as ‘the café’.

You can now search the manuscript for ‘copper kettle’ and check each occurrence against that decision. If the café appears again in a later chapter, you have a record of how to write its name.

Your style sheet will depend on your book, but common things to include are:

  • British or American English. Record which spelling conventions you are following. For example: ‘Use British English: colour, centre and travelled. Use -ise spellings, such as organise.’
  • Character names and nicknames. Note the exact spelling and any accepted variations. For example: ‘Katherine Ellis, never Catherine. Her brother calls her Kit; everyone else uses Katherine.’
  • Place and organisation names. Record spelling, spacing and capitalisation. For example: ‘Westbridge Academy is one word followed by Academy. Use lowercase for later references to the academy.’
  • Invented words and specialist terms. Record how unfamiliar terms are written and what they mean. For example: ‘A moonstone is a crystal used to store light. Lowercase, one word; plural moonstones.’
  • Capitalisation of titles and roles. Note when a word needs a capital letter. For example: ‘Captain Marsh when the title comes before the name; the captain when used as a general description.’
  • Hyphenation and preferred word forms. Record choices where you might otherwise switch between forms. For example: ‘Use email throughout, never e-mail.’
  • Quotation marks and dialogue. Record your punctuation conventions. For example: ‘Use single quotation marks for speech and double quotation marks for a quotation within speech.’
  • Numbers, dates and times. Choose a consistent format for recurring information. For example: ‘In narrative prose, spell out numbers from one to ninety-nine. Write dates as 14 March 2025 and times as 9 am.’
  • Italics and other text treatments. Record what gets special formatting. For example: ‘Italicise book titles. Keep chapter titles in single quotation marks.’
  • Abbreviations and units of measurement. Note how these should appear. For example: ‘Write World Health Organization (WHO) on first mention, then WHO. Use metric measurements with a space between the number and unit: 5 km.’
  • Sources, references and labels. For non-fiction, record the conventions you will follow. For example: ‘Use author–date citations in the text. Number figures consecutively throughout the book and give each one a caption, beginning Figure 1.’
  • Character facts and timeline details. Keep a short record of facts you need to check for continuity. For example: ‘Katherine is left-handed, has brown eyes and turns thirty on 12 October. The story opens in September, when she is still twenty-nine.’

These are examples of decisions you might make, rather than rules every book must follow. Include what is useful for your manuscript, and keep the entries short enough to check quickly. If you change a decision later, update the style sheet and check the earlier chapters too.

There is one other huge advantage to keeping a style sheet: it will be invaluable to your professional editors, especially during copy editing. It is less important for non-professional feedback from friends, family and beta readers. In fact, they will probably never see it. However, an editor working on your book can use it to spot mistakes and update it as they work.

Second pass: address the story-level problems

The second pass comes when you are confident that you have corrected the sentence errors you can find and made the manuscript as consistent as possible. The writing should feel cleaner and easier to follow. At this point, you are ready to look at how the story works as a whole.

I will not lie to you here, this is the hard part.

The process below is based on how developmental editors think about a book. It is designed to help you find problems you might not have considered while writing.

Start by paying attention to how your book makes you feel. Read slowly enough to notice your reactions. Listen to your body and mind: when do you become restless, lose track of what is happening or realise that you have read a page without taking it in?

These reactions show you where to investigate. They do not, on their own, tell you what needs changing. Boredom might come from a repetitive conversation, an unclear goal or a scene whose consequences do not matter. Each would need a different solution.

Make a short note of where your response changes and what you feel.

For example: ‘Chapter six: I started skimming during the second argument about the inheritance. Neither character seems to say anything new.’

Once you have finished reading, return to those passages and look for evidence of what caused the reaction. Check the surrounding chapters too; the missing preparation may belong earlier in the book.

The following feelings are useful starting points. The causes listed under each are possibilities to check against your manuscript.

I feel bored, restless or tempted to skim

  • Nothing meaningful changes. The scene leaves the characters with the same knowledge, options and relationships they had at the start.
  • The material repeats earlier work. An argument, memory or explanation covers ground the reader already understands without adding a new consequence or insight.
  • Background interrupts the present story. Backstory, worldbuilding or dialogue explaining shared knowledge delays the question that made the reader want to continue.
  • Routine activity gets too much space. Arriving, making tea or exchanging pleasantries takes several paragraphs without contributing enough to character, atmosphere or conflict.

I feel confused or lost

  • The scene lacks orientation. It is difficult to tell where or when events happen, who is present or how the characters move through the space.
  • The viewpoint changes without a clear transition. You cannot tell whose thoughts or perceptions you are following.
  • A link in cause and effect is missing. A decision or event seems to come from nowhere because the necessary information arrives too late or never appears.
  • Details contradict one another. The timeline does not fit, a location changes unexpectedly or a character knows something they have not learned.

Wondering who committed a murder can keep you reading. Being unable to work out which character has just entered the room usually gets in the way. Check whether the uncertainty creates the kind of curiosity you intended.

I feel detached, or I don’t care what happens

  • The character’s desire is unclear. You can see what they are doing but do not understand what they want or why it matters to them.
  • The stakes have not been established. The narration insists that failure would be terrible without making the possible loss specific or believable.
  • Important relationships exist mostly in explanation. You are told that two people love or need each other, but have seen little to make that bond matter.
  • The story skips emotional consequences. A loss, betrayal or success happens, but the characters have little opportunity to respond before the next event begins.

I feel unconvinced: ‘They wouldn’t do that’

  • A choice lacks motivation. The character acts against an established desire or fear without enough pressure or explanation to make the decision credible.
  • A change happens without preparation. Trust, forgiveness, courage or a new belief appears without the experiences and choices that would support it.
  • The plot depends on convenient behaviour. A capable character suddenly overlooks an obvious option, forgets essential knowledge or makes an unexplained mistake.
  • A solution breaks the story’s own rules. A new ability, conveniently placed clue or unexpected rescue resolves a problem without earlier groundwork.

Characters can act irrationally, make mistakes and contradict themselves. Ask whether the manuscript gives you enough to understand this particular choice.

I feel frustrated or manipulated

  • Information is withheld artificially. A character avoids saying something they would naturally disclose, with no convincing reason for their silence.
  • A decision keeps being postponed. The story repeatedly approaches a confrontation or revelation, then interrupts it without changing the situation.
  • Progress is repeatedly cancelled. After each struggle, the characters return to the same position without learning anything or facing lasting consequences.
  • Obstacles feel manufactured. A misunderstanding or delay survives only because characters ignore a straightforward solution the story has not ruled out.

Frustration with a character can be part of an absorbing story. Investigate when that feeling turns into frustration with the way the story is being arranged.

I feel rushed, overwhelmed or exhausted

  • Too much arrives at once. New names, places, rules or plotlines appear before you have enough context to understand what matters.
  • Major moments receive too little attention. A decisive conversation, discovery or relationship change is hurried through or reduced to a brief summary.
  • There is no room to absorb consequences. One crisis follows another without enough reaction or recovery to give each event weight.
  • Everything is written at the same intensity. Constant danger or confrontation leaves little contrast, so the biggest moments struggle to stand out.

I feel no tension, or everything seems predictable

  • Opposition does too little. Threats sound serious, but they rarely prevent progress or force the character to change their approach.
  • Failure has no convincing cost. You expect success and see little that the character might lose along the way.
  • Scenes follow the same pattern. Similar obstacles produce similar responses and outcomes without new complications.
  • The answer arrives before the uncertainty has done its work. An explanation or reveal removes the question that was carrying the scene, and nothing equally compelling replaces it.

A familiar outcome can still be satisfying. In a romance, for example, you may expect the couple to get together while remaining invested in how they overcome their difficulties. Look for uncertainty or emotional interest in the journey.

I feel patronised or lectured at

  • The narration explains an inference you have already made. A gesture or exchange conveys the emotion, then the text spells out the same meaning again.
  • Characters deliver information for the reader’s benefit. They explain facts everyone in the conversation already knows without a reason to discuss them now.
  • The theme is repeatedly stated. Speeches or commentary tell you what lesson to take instead of letting the characters’ choices and consequences develop its meaning.

I feel jolted or pulled out of the story

  • The mood changes without enough transition. A serious consequence gives way to prolonged joking before its emotional weight has registered.
  • A switch interrupts momentum without adding enough. A new viewpoint, flashback or subplot repeatedly takes over just as the current scene reaches a meaningful moment.
  • The narration abruptly changes its distance. You move from a character’s immediate experience into a broad explanation just when you wanted to stay close to their response.
  • Dialogue stops fitting the speaker or situation. A character suddenly sounds like someone else, or explains their feelings with a neatness that the scene has not earned.

I feel disappointed or unsatisfied by the ending

  • The central question is left unaddressed. The climax settles a different problem from the one the novel has asked you to care about.
  • The outcome does not grow from earlier choices. Luck or an unprepared intervention does the work that the character’s decisions seemed to be building towards.
  • Important preparation leads nowhere. A significant clue, promise, relationship or subplot is abandoned without a meaningful resolution.
  • The aftermath is too brief. The main event ends, but you do not see enough of its consequences to understand what has changed.

Once you have noted your reactions and found evidence or patterns to support them, it is time to revise.

Turn the feeling into a revision

Make sure you are not removing sections that work.

Notice the passages that make you curious, moved or eager to keep reading too. Look at what makes them work: a clear desire, a difficult choice, a revealing exchange or a consequence that feels earned. These are strengths to protect as you revise.

For each possible problem, ask: what did I feel, where did it begin, and what in the manuscript supports my explanation?

Check whether the same issue appears elsewhere before choosing a fix. Your familiarity with your own story can also make a passage feel predictable or repetitive, so judge what is actually on the page and what a new reader would know at that point.

Start with the few problems that have the greatest effect on the whole book. A revision might mean adding a missing scene, changing the order of events, strengthening a motive or cutting repeated material. Choose a change that addresses the cause you have found, then reread to see whether it creates the intended effect. Once the story changes are in place, check the revised passages for fresh sentence errors and inconsistencies.

You might find that this takes several passes or revisions. That’s OK. In fact, it’s part of the process. Don’t be scared of fixing one problem at a time.

If you persist, there will come a moment when you feel that there’s nothing left for you to correct. The typos and errors are gone, the story flows and the plot makes sense.

You are now at the first draft stage.

Draft one: ready for friends-and-family feedback

At this point, ask yourself the following questions:

  • Does the story feel complete?
  • Have all the known major problems been addressed?
  • Have all obvious sentence errors been corrected?
  • Are the formatting and recurring details consistent?

If the answer to each is yes, you have a first draft. Save this version separately before moving on to outside feedback.

Remember that a first draft does not mean a flawless manuscript. There are probably still issues you have missed or, more commonly, problems you didn’t know you didn’t know. This is where the next stages come in. Getting friends and family feedback will be the next step, followed by beta reader feedback and finally editorial assessment.