What editors want for Christmas isn’t polish, perfection, or vibes—it’s finished books, clear storytelling, and writers who trust their readers enough to be specific and brave. An editor’s wish list for writers who want stronger stories, better partnerships, and a publishing year that actually gets books across the finish line.
Editing a thirteen-book Arthurian saga isn’t for the faint of heart. Mark pulls back the curtain on his years in the trenches with Once and Future Hearts—from navigating character continuity and protecting authorial voice to the diplomatic art of asking, “Are you sure, Tracy?” as the finale, Camlann, heads into its early-release Kickstarter celebration.
There was a glorious time — not as far back as dinosaurs, but far enough that you had to physically turn a page — when spy thrillers were built on tension. Real tension. The slow-burn, creeping dread variety that made you lean forward until you realized your spine was doing yoga poses you didn’t sign up for.
These were the days of The Bourne Identity, the early Bond novels, and le Carré’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy — stories powered by paranoia, not pyrotechnics. Today, spy thrillers have traded that slow dread for weaponized anxiety and smartwatch hacking. But both eras have something to teach us about how to build suspense that sticks.
A novel isn’t a pile of words—it’s a chain of well-built scenes. This post breaks down the five parts of a powerful scene (from Inciting Incident to Resolution) and why scene craft is the difference between a draft and a publishable book.