Editorial Letter Example: What a Manuscript Assessment Looks Like

If you have been told your novel needs "an editorial assessment" before anything else, you probably have two questions. What does one actually look like, and is it worth what editors charge? This post answers both, with a real example you can read in full. One note before we start: the editorial letter here is the letter an editor writes to a novelist about their manuscript, not a letter to the editor of a newspaper.

An editorial letter is usually the first professional read a book gets, and it decides what the rest of the edit is for. If you are still working out what kind of editing your book needs, this is the stage that tells you.

What an editorial letter is

An editorial letter is a written report on your whole manuscript. The editor reads the entire book, then writes to you, in prose, about what is working, what is not, and what to do first. Reedsy describes it as a report on your manuscript's strengths and weaknesses, with feedback on big-picture issues like plot, structure and characterization. The key feature is what it leaves out: there are no notes in the margins of your pages. You get the diagnosis, not the markup.

The same service goes by several names. Editorial assessment, manuscript evaluation and manuscript assessment (the usual UK term) all mean this letter. Manuscript critique usually does too, though some editors use it for something lighter, so ask what you will actually receive. The name matters less than the shape: a whole-book read, written up as a letter, before anyone touches a sentence.

Editorial letter vs developmental edit vs beta read vs critique

These four get confused because all of them are "feedback on my novel." They answer different questions, at very different prices (beta readers get their own guide in what beta readers can and can't tell you). The costs below are for an 80,000-word novel, a common length for a debut.

The difference between the first two rows is the one that matters most when you are paying. Reedsy puts it simply: a developmental edit is an editorial assessment plus markup of the manuscript, and it typically costs about 30% more than the letter alone. The letter is the cheaper way to find out whether you even need the markup yet. Our guide to developmental editing covers what that second step adds.

Sources:Reedsy, editorial assessment (what it includes, cost vs developmental edit)·Reedsy, how much does an editor cost (2026)·Editorial Freelancers Association, rate chart (2025 rates, surveyed 2025 to 2026)·Jericho Writers, manuscript assessment (prices, report length, turnaround)·Jericho Writers, developmental edit (price, turnaround)

What a good editorial letter contains

Length varies. Jericho Writers, for example, says its assessment reports run 2,500 to 4,000 words depending on the manuscript. Length is not the test, though. A useful letter does four things:

1. Names the strengths, specifically. Not "great voice" but which scene, and why it works, so you know what to protect while you revise.
2. Picks the few problems that matter most. A letter that lists thirty issues at equal weight has not done the editor's real job, which is judgment. Two or three big things, clearly ranked, are worth more.
3. Says where to start. Some fixes solve others. A good letter tells you which one to tackle first so you do not polish chapters you are about to cut. (This is also why the order you edit in matters.)
4. Points at the page. Chapter numbers, character names, the scene where it goes wrong. General advice you could have read in a craft book is not an assessment of your book.

What it should not be is a verdict. There is no grade in a real editorial letter, and a number on its own tells you nothing about what to change; we explain why in a story critique is not a score. And it should be honest. A letter that only praises is a waste of the fee, which is the whole problem with feedback from people who are too nice.

An editorial letter example, walked through

Here is a real one. Our sample editorial letter is the letter Edith writes, shown on a made-up literary novel called The Salt Road, about a woman named Mara and a harbour town she cannot decide whether to leave. It is deliberately brief (a real letter on a whole book runs considerably longer), but it has every part a good letter needs. Here is how it maps.

It opens with the honest overall picture. The first paragraph tells the author that this is a real book and that it is not yet the book it wants to be, and that both are true. No cushioning, no pile-on: the reader knows where they stand in three sentences.

Then the strength, pinned to a scene. "Your sentences trust the reader. You rarely over-explain." The letter points to Mara standing at the harbour in chapter two, saying nothing, and calls that restraint the spine of the book. That tells the author what not to touch.

Then the one big problem. For the first hundred pages it is clear what Mara wants; after the midpoint, it is not. The plot keeps moving, but her wanting goes quiet. This is the kind of note only a whole-book read can give, because no single chapter is wrong. The problem is in the shape, which is why it matters whether your editing software reads the whole manuscript.

Then a related one, just as specific. "The confrontation in chapter nine is two pages long and it should be ten." The letter connects it to the first issue: the author rushes the scenes that cost the characters the most.

Then where to start. The letter ends on "Here's where I'd start," and hands over four points, each labelled developmental or structural: "The middle loses Mara's want"; "You rush the scenes that cost the most"; "The ending answers a question the book didn't quite ask"; and "A voice worth trusting", a strength marked as the thing to protect.

The last part is where Edith's letter differs from a freelancer's. Each point opens a conversation. In the sample, Edith asks whether Mara turns down the harbourmaster's offer in chapter seven out of fear or pride. The author answers: fear, mostly. Edith's reply is that the scene shows the refusal but not the fear, and that one line of Mara noticing it would carry the whole middle. The note got sharper because the author explained what she meant, and the fix stays in the author's own words.

It pointed out things I didn't consider and made me re-evaluate and change things in a way that made the book so much more cohesive.

What an editorial assessment costs

Editors usually price an assessment per word. For an 80,000-word novel, the published figures look like this:

• Editorial Freelancers Association: 1.5 to 1.8 cents a word for a manuscript assessment or evaluation, from more than 1,100 members reporting their 2025 rates. That is $1,200 to $1,440.
• Reedsy: 1.8 to 2.9 cents a word, $1,440 to $2,320, with an average of about 2.5 cents, or $2,000.
• Jericho Writers (UK): a flat £705 for a manuscript of 75,001 to 80,000 words, with a report of about 3,500 words and a 2 to 4 week turnaround.

That is real money for a letter, and it is still usually the cheapest professional step, because a full developmental edit runs higher. Our breakdown of what a book editor costs has every stage priced out. If you are not sure the draft is ready for any paid read yet, how to tell if your novel is ready for an editor has the signs.

Sources:Editorial Freelancers Association, rate chart·Reedsy, how much does an editor cost (2026)·Jericho Writers, manuscript assessment

How to read the letter when you get one

• Read it once, then put it down. The first read is emotional. Come back the next day for the useful read.
• Find the pattern. Most letters have one idea underneath several notes. In the sample, the wanting that goes quiet and the rushed confrontation are the same instinct showing up twice.
• Decide what you disagree with, and why. You are the author. A note you push back on with a clear reason is a note you have understood.
• Start with the biggest fix, not the easiest. Easy fixes feel like progress, but the big one may change the chapters they sit in.

Where Edith fits

Edith's Editorial Review is this letter, written on your whole manuscript, up to 150,000 words read at once. It costs $15, and the first 10,000 words are free with no credit card, so you can see the shape of the letter on your own pages first. Every point opens for discussion: ask why, push back, explain what you meant, and settle it your way. She never rewrites your prose. If the letter earns your trust, the complete six-stage edit is $249 per book, and the $15 is credited toward it.

She is not a replacement for every human editor, and we are candid about the trade-offs in Edith vs a human editor. Where she is useful is as the first honest read, one built to critique rather than flatter, before you decide what else to spend.