The Snowflake Method: 6 Steps to a Powerful Story Outline

Most story structure problems are really escalation problems. Writers often have enough plot, but not enough increasing pressure. If the stakes, conflict, or consequences aren't growing as the story progresses, readers feel it immediately—even if they can't explain why.

One of the greatest pieces of writing advice ever imparted to me was to write badly intentionally first. It sounds a little counter-intuitive, but it freed me from perfectionism. Only trying to write a flawless first draft leads to paralysis and mid-sentence self-editing. But when I allowed myself simply to get the ideas down, unrefined and rough, the real work—shaping, refining, polishing—was something I could do. Good writing is rarely made with perfection; it's refined through revision. That second thought enabled me to enjoy the process instead of dreading the flawed beginning.

I wouldn't use the word 'critical'. In copyediting it's more about assessing how the author's words are communicating their intention without ambiguity or potential missteps. It's not my book, the author has the last say. If something doesn't read smoothly, I'd suggest an alternative way of phrasing it so it's clearer or wouldn't jar with readers. We wouldn't want readers to have to go back and reread a sentence and lose the thread of the narrative. With my suggestions, I try to reflect the author's voice, so use suitable language to fit the existing text – still, the author is free to ignore any of my ideas, of course!

This issue can prove to be a real tightrope walk even for the most experienced editor. You should always keep in mind as an editor is that your goal is to be constructive, not destructive. I always try and balance out my editorial comments: although I'm always as open and honest as possible in my critique of an author's work, I always take care to emphasize the stronger aspects of their writing as much as the areas that need improvement. The trick is to inspire the author to improve their work--not to discourage them. I find that most authors appreciate criticism of their work when its dispensed in tough-but-fair language and is genuinely tailored to help them become better writers.

Writing is an enormously personal endeavor where the writer nevertheless must expose his or her work to outside scrutiny. It’s a vulnerable moment, where hundreds or even thousands of hours of solitary effort is suddenly exposed to the light, and receiving the wrong sort of feedback can be destructive to a writer’s confidence. It’s natural for empathetic beta readers or editors to want to protect the feelings of writers, perhaps even glossing over flaws so as not to cause harm and potentially even end the career of an aspiring writer before it has begun.

I think this is a natural tendency, but when I represent a new author as an agent I need to put the best possible work in front of editors if I’m going to have a chance of landing a contract. Similarly, aspiring writers who approach me on Reedsy are entering an extremely competitive field, on the same order of difficulty as trying to break in as a professional athlete, actor, or musician, and they’re also paying good money to receive a professional opinion, which takes time and effort, and can be expensive. My job is to identify weaknesses and how to fix them. I cannot hold back from criticism because I want to spare a writer’s feelings.

My goal, then, is to give credit where credit is due, giving compliments as merited, but also to find those areas where the writer is falling short and providing a pathway to strengthen the novel in question and give it a better chance of success. I’m also hoping not just to improve this novel, but to give writers techniques that will help improve future work as well. I want to take the areas where they are already good and make them great, and turn those areas of weakness into strengths. If I can do that, and leave writers encouraged and optimistic about the very real work that lies ahead, then I feel like I have done my best work and provided good value.

I think a good approach is being tactfully candid about a sentence not making sense, recasting for clarity as needed without changing the meaning, and checking with the author in an embedded query if they are okay with your change.

I sometimes provide two or three alternative phrasings in that query as well.

After I turn in an edited manuscript, I encourage clients to take their time and compile a list of any clarifying questions. I make sure to hear them out and answer any and all questions/concerns they have about their work.

I always want to give actionable and clear feedback to an author. Although pointing out weaknesses in a manuscript can feel like criticism, it’s never meant as such.

It’s my job to provide insight for why something isn’t working so I always endeavour to find a balance between explanation and suggestions, but also to highlight the positives and what does work about a manuscript. I often find that my role as an editor borders on a teacher when it comes to working with debut authors who are still learning craft and story structure (which I love!) and I’ll offer suggestions of other resources for authors to explore if I think they would be helpful too.

As I work largely with commercial and genre fiction, my insights are informed by my years of working in house, with the feedback from readers and retailers – I’ve spent a long time listening to their feedback and I incorporate it into my own. I’m always mindful of the story you’re trying to tell, whilst offering feedback that helps you take it to the next level to ensure success!

As soon as I receive a request from an author with a sample of the manuscript in question, I read it thoroughly to get a sense of their voice and their intention in writing. I "listen" deeply to it. I specialize in non-fiction and memoir, and I only edit manuscripts that are of interest to me. Often they are subjects I am keen to learn more about or study more deeply, or I sense they are valuable stories to offer to the world. This puts me in the position of being naturally interested in what they are saying, which comes through in our exchanges.

I pay special attention to honoring their unique voice and I see my work as helping to bring it forward more clearly and powerfully. All my suggestions are based on whether I understand what they are conveying, if I notice ambiguity, if I sense the reader might misunderstand something, or if the language is clunky or otherwise distracting. I provide a sample edit so they can see right away how I work. This allows them to feel how my suggestions land for them.

I also ask questions when something isn't clear to me, rather than make assumptions. Working with authors this way feels a lot like ordinary relationship—listening deeply, being curious about their perspective, and reflecting back to them what I notice so they have a mirror to gain perspective as well. It is important to me to schedule enough time to go back and forth with an author so I understand what they need, they can ask questions and rework things based on my feedback, and so forth. This process creates a sense of respect and collaboration which, in my experience, is mutually empowering.

As a developmental editor I am in the position of helping an author curate their writing. This means our collaboration is a learning experience. There is no room in creative endeavors for 'being critical'. Feedback on any difficulties in the material should be approached as identifying obstacles or interruptions in the message, regardless of the material's type or genre.

'Being critical' implies that judgement is involved. An editor is not collaborating with an author in order to place judgement -- feedback should teach. It should boost an author's understanding of writing and getting what's in their heads onto the page. If wording/phrasing overwhelm or poorly support a point or scene or exchange of dialogue, any feedback given must identify the issue created, explain that issue and how it impedes or corrupts meaning, and then offers a solution that is clear and easily applied to the material. The author, now armed with new knowledge, can be aware and empowered to avoid or amend the issue.

I explain stuff.

I explain everything.

First, I help set goals that my client and I both agree with.

Then, if something doesn't reach that goal, that becomes the focus of my evaluation, not whether I personally like the work or not.

Also, I praise the work that helps the client achieve her/his goals, because criticism can't always be about what's "wrong," though I avoid the word "wrong" and substitute the term "not working (towards the agreed-upon goal)."

This approach helps enforce to my clients that I am there to help them achieve what they set out to achieve.

Most of my clients respond well to the challenge.

For the few that don't, I make sure to emphasize the stuff that is working well toward the agreed-upon goal, which helps to stop them from feeling like failures.

Are their others, still, who just bristle at any constructive criticism?

Yes, I've had one, and we agreed to part ways, and I hope that this writer found a better editorial fit.

Fortunately, this hasn't been as difficult as it may be for some; I have been a publisher in addition to being an editor in the past, and I'm used to working with writers of every personality and depth in multiple genres. I see the human being in addition to his/her/their capacity as a writer--this includes being supportive in terms of what I see in their writing as well as assuring each that certain issues in writing are common--so they shouldn't feel self-conscious. They're safe with me in working with them. In terms of delineating what I see in their work, I always do an overarching general assessment in addition to a markup; the markup is for any text-specific comments, questions, or clarifications in addition to any corrections (which as an editor I can't help proofreading), while the general assessment is where I recognize the broader talents and capacities the writer has--as well as any specific issues I see either consistently (grammar, punctuation, etc.) or in terms of plot, character, and/or narrative arc. I see us as being here to be supportive as well as professional. Writers can be vulnerable when it comes to their work--I can usually see via their communication if they are; some are just matter-of-fact, so I know I can be more blunt. Others it's about communicating in a way the writers will best understand what I'm saying. It always depends on the individual writer.