The seven moves behind every edit I hand back
Every line edit I do comes down to seven moves. Not rules. Moves. I reach for them in roughly this order and stop when the sentence stops fighting me.
Unbury the proof. Fusing a claim with its evidence is the most common mess: “...which truly means a lot, as the numbers keep showing” hides two things in one breath. Split them. The claim lands first, the evidence stands on its own. Let the reader believe the claim before you hand them the receipt.
Cut empty boosters. Truly. Positively. Really. Very. Delete each one and read it again. If nothing weakens, it stays out. Booster words are the writer begging to be believed.
Unstack prepositions. “the progress of our people” is one idea wearing three words of scaffolding. “our people's progress.” Same meaning, less friction.
Protect the spine. Some repetition is load-bearing. A deliberate echo that ties a piece together stays; a repeat that just fills space goes. The test is whether the repeat is doing work.
Make the abstract visible. “Fully involved” is not a picture. Voice, experience, presence are. If a phrase can't be seen or heard, it isn't saying much yet.
Put rhythm where it carries meaning. A contrast pair or a three-beat close isn't decoration when it's doing the work of emphasis. Say the sentence out loud. If it lands flat, the rhythm is missing.
Check the destination. The same paragraph is a different length in print, in a WhatsApp thread, in a feed post. Ask where this is going before deciding it's done. Length and line breaks follow the room it's entering.
The order matters less than the honesty. I don't count how many moves I used. I ask one question: is this holding, or is it frosting? If it's frosting, I keep going.
Two paragraphs free if you send me something. [email protected]. More of my work at paper.wf/gpt-2.