By Taylor Steed, 29 May 2026

When I got my Certificate in Editing, a large portion of the curriculum was focused on technology. How do you use editing tools in text processors? How do you interact with clients online? How can you use modern tools in your workflow? These skills are undoubtedly paramount to a successful career in editing. However, when I was hired to edit a novel last spring, I discovered a glaring hole in my training: how do you edit when your client’s idea of modern technology is a typewriter? This is my story of working with my favourite client, Mary.

The meeting

Our technological troubles began when our partnership did. We were located at opposite ends of the country, so correspondence was limited to the virtual variety. And so began the first hurdle. Video chats? Impossible. Mary didn’t own a camera. Email? Sporadic. They somehow kept disappearing from her inbox. And so our relationship became a series of phone calls, interspersed with long voicemails and voice notes, as we strove to identify a project plan. Mary printed our contract and mailed me the signed copy. Likewise, manuscripts, photographs and maps were sent via snail mail.

In and of itself, these were hardships hardly worth noting, especially given that we were both old enough to have once lived in a world where they were commonplace. Where their presence was felt was in the bottom line. Communication took far more time than expected, and timelines and budgets had to be adjusted to account for the postal system and the occasional lost letter.

The material

Mary provided me with several Word documents, each containing a separate section of her manuscript. My first task was to combine and organize the sections, ensuring I had the most up-to-date version of each part (spoiler: I did not). To ease Mary into the process, I used Word’s track changes to revise the first three chapters and sent them to Mary for review. I’m sure you’ve guessed where this is going.

Mary responded to my comments with unbridled and unorganized joy. To show her agreement with my changes, she either accepted the change, rejected the change, changed the font colour, or some combination of all three. If she disagreed with my revision, she took an identical approach. And she somehow hid the comment bubbles, which, to this day, we have been unable to get back.

In the spirit of insanity, I decided to try again. We went through a track changes training, and I provided Mary with a Word document of instructions. The results were no less enthusiastic and no more successful.

So we went back to the drawing board and found a solution that allowed Mary to give her feedback and me to preserve what little mental fortitude I still possessed. I gave her a document with track changes (comments were now in parenthesis and highlighted). Mary reviewed with pen and paper, and then we had a call in which she walked me through each change she contested and every question either of us had.

What started as the ultimate test in patience for both of us became one of my favourite parts of our project. So often, as editors, our discussions with authors are limited to one-sentence notes in the margins. Yet with Mary, I was able to gain deeper insights into her priorities and to help her bring added life to her anecdotes as she remembered details she’d forgotten while writing. We were also able to discuss how to make changes that enhanced the structure and flow of her book without losing her voice or message. At the end of the process (albeit far longer than I anticipated), we were able to create a final manuscript that Mary loved.

The manuscript

Did I mention that I was also hired to help her self-publish the book? Yes, I buried the lede. If you’ve ever self-published, you know that it can be a herculean task even when you understand the systems. More so when your author can’t find her Amazon password.

Knowing that neither Mary nor technology could be removed from this process, and having learnt from efforts thus far, Mary and I were prepared. She let me log into her accounts and, after a 20-minute patience-testing call in which Mary couldn’t find the one-time password once her phone notifications disappeared, I was in! With Mary’s blessing and overflowing relief that she didn’t have to do it herself, I was able to get the book published.

Once Mary was ecstatically clutching the first copy in her hands, I had one more task to complete. Amazon, unfortunately, doesn’t respond to phone calls as well as I do, and it certainly doesn’t take requests for author copies of books via snail mail. So I wrote instructions, full of links and screenshots, on how to order author copies and how to help others find her book online. And, of course, I still stay in touch with Mary every few months when she needs me to send the instructions again.

Whether it was the success after tireless perseverance, the reward of overcoming new challenges and learning new skills, or the infectiousness of Mary’s enthusiasm and love of life pouring through every phone call, this book became the project I am most proud of, even more so than my own published works. I am forever grateful for this project and that Mary trusted me to bring her words to the wider world.

However, in the spirit of honesty, I did make sure my next client could use Word.

By Linda Jayne Turner, 12 May 2026

Most people are afraid of public speaking to some extent. Mark Twain once said: ‘There are only two types of speakers in the world: the nervous and liars.’ Many speakers admit to feeling nervous, even experienced ones, and a healthy dose of adrenalin due to slight anxiety can help you give your best performance. There are, however, also ways to keep your nerves in check and the more you practise public speaking, the easier it gets and the more confident you will become over time.

Knowing your audience

First things first, you need to know your audience so you can tailor your presentation to meet their needs, ideally even before you prepare your talk or panel discussion. Try to find out as much information about them as possible at an early stage, such as what they want to get out of the session, their subject knowledge and their level of English or whatever language you’re presenting in. It also helps to arrive early on the day and chat to a few people beforehand, so you get a feel for who is in your audience. If you are unable to speak to the audience in advance, you can also ask a few questions at the start of your session to gauge their level of knowledge and interests. If possible, attend the other sessions so you don’t duplicate what previous speakers have said, and you might even be able to relate your presentation to theirs. Engaging with the audience is key and it’s a two-way process, so please also do your best to be a good audience member when you're attending someone else’s talk by listening actively, nodding and encouraging the speaker. When it’s your turn to speak, you’ll want this kind of support. As a member of the audience, perhaps you could also prepare some questions for the Q&A session while you are listening to a presentation.

Preparing and rehearsing

The importance of preparation and rehearsal cannot be stressed enough. Ensure your presentation has a clear purpose such as to inform, explain, persuade, or call to action. It is not advisable to write out a script and read it or learn it by heart but, rather, you should know your material well enough to speak naturally, with index cards as props if necessary. There are various ways to rehearse, either by recording yourself with video or audio and then reviewing to see where you could improve or, generally much better, rehearse in front of a trusted friend or colleague and get feedback from them. You should also time your presentation. Audiences love it when you finish on time and also, if you run over, you will either disrupt the event schedule or not have time to deliver the concluding parts of your presentation or answer any questions the audience may have. Anticipate possible questions for the Q&A at the end and prepare and practise your answers.

Set up early on the day and check in advance that all the technology works, including the computers. You should also practise using a microphone if you don’t use one regularly. This video shows how to hold a hand-held mic properly. Do a sound check in case any technical issues need to be solved before you begin speaking.

There are various techniques to help overcome last-minute nerves, such as doing breathing exercises before you begin. It is also a good idea to do a vocal warm-up to help you relax and avoid vocal fry (a creaky voice produced by low-frequency vibrations of the vocal cords). Here are some exercises you can do; a few minutes should suffice.

Projecting confidence

Experts claim that 93 percent of communication is non-verbal. It’s not just about what you say but how you say it and whether you appear nervous or confident and relaxed.

First, plan your outfit in advance. Dress smartly but comfortably; this can also make you feel more confident. And if you’re travelling to a conference, have a back-up outfit just in case of any mishaps along the way. Try to avoid fidgeting as this betrays nerves. You can, for instance, put up long hair so you won’t be tempted to keep pushing it back, and don’t wear jewellery that you tend to fiddle with. Keep your hands in a neutral position if not holding a microphone and only use them to gesture to help get your points across.

Use open body language. Don’t cross your arms or turn your back on the audience to read your slides or you will soon lose their attention. Eye contact is important. Look at the whole of the audience – not just to one side, although even experienced and effective speakers such as Margaret Thatcher have tended to look more to one side of the audience than the other (mostly towards the right). But you can focus on a handful of people in different sections of the audience. Don’t stand still in the middle of the stage for the entire presentation as this makes it difficult to connect with people on the far sides of the room. There are many videos on this subject such as 5 Body Language Tips for Your Next Speech by Brian Tracy.

General tips

For inspiration about public speaking styles, you can watch videos by renowned speakers such as Martin Luther King or Winston Churchill. Think about adopting some of the techniques that made their speeches effective, such as using rhetorical devices like repetition or the rule of three. A memorable example of this is Abraham Lincoln’s famous line from the Gettysburg Address: ‘government of the people, by the people, for the people’. There are also some ways to lighten the tone during the performance, for instance, with the use of humour, but be careful not to overdo it. Be authentic and remember that the audience doesn’t know exactly what you plan to say, so if you forget something, they most likely won’t notice.

PowerPoint

Many speakers use PowerPoint. Beware of the pitfalls: reading your PowerPoint presentation out to your audience is a sure-fire way to lose their attention, particularly if you turn your back on them to look at the slides behind you. PowerPoint should only be used as an aid – and wisely. Jean-Luc Doumont, author of ‘Trees, Maps, and Theorems’, gave an excellent keynote on the subject at a conference I attended: Effective slides: design, construction, and use. One piece of advice he shared was that if you don’t have time to prepare a good PowerPoint presentation, it’s better not to use one at all. A group of students I taught at Nordhausen University of Applied Sciences in Germany conveyed their messages in their final presentation about public speaking by acting them out rather than using PowerPoint, and this was highly effective. Another sound piece of advice is to divide up the information on your slides to avoid having too much text on each one – and also take a printout of the slides with you in case the technology fails.

Speaking online

Particularly since the COVID-19 pandemic, many presentations have been online. It can be more challenging to engage with your audience if you’re speaking online but it helps if you ask them to switch their cameras on – and their microphones off – if possible so you can at least see them and gauge their reactions.

As with presenting in person, dress smartly but comfortably, and also bear in mind that blocks of colour tend to come across better on camera than patterns, and ensure your outfit doesn’t clash with or blend in with your background. A virtual background can be useful if the room you are presenting in is cluttered as that can be distracting for the audience. As with presenting in person, do a sound check beforehand and test out the lighting too. For an excellent short guide on presenting online, read ‘How to Feel More Comfortable on Camera’ by Gillian Whitney (2023).

Other forms of public speaking

Another form of public speaking is participation in a panel discussion. This may be less stressful than giving a talk because the focus is not only on you. These sessions still need to be properly prepared but not completely scripted since the conversation needs to be natural. The same applies to podcasts.

Chairing a talk, moderating a panel or hosting a podcast are all forms of public speaking that require a particular set of skills. The moderator should support the speaker or help the panellists or guests shine. Their role is to ask questions and not dominate the discussion with their own opinions. A moderator or chair should agree with their speakers in advance on how they would like to be introduced, or whether they will introduce themselves. A podcast host should inform the guest in advance whether it will be audio only or audio-visual. As a guest, don’t be afraid to have some written reminders of things you want to say, for instance, if there is a particular point you want to make or resources or contact details you would like to share.

Conclusion

The more you practise, the more comfortable you will feel speaking and you might find you actually enjoy it or at least become less self-conscious. Make sure you know your audience and prepare as well as you can, including rehearsing, ideally with feedback from someone else. Practice makes perfect, or at least improves the performance, and it will also help with your confidence. Then, on the day, take some time to get into the zone and then relax and enjoy your presentation. Remember that you’ve been invited to speak because the organizers or host believe you have something important to say.

Linda Jayne Turner is an academic editor in the social sciences. She has been teaching at the International Project Week at Nordhausen University of Applied Sciences regularly since 2000, including courses on public speaking for students, lecturers and professors. In addition, she has taught public speaking at Charles University in Prague and at the International Business Week at the Business Management Faculty of Vilnius University of Applied Sciences. She also offers online coaching in public speaking.

By Paula Arellano Geoffroy, 28 April 2026

Translator, editor and interpreter Liz Cross became SENSE Chair a year ago in March 2025, and she has been balancing her duties with a hard-working schedule for the Society ever since. In the following interview she tells us how this year has been and how she perceives the future of the language profession will unfold.

I understand that you became a SENSE member at least a decade ago. Is this correct?  

I joined SENSE in 1999. I was going through the telephone directory, cold calling translation agencies for work. One of the numbers on my list was a SENSE member (I think it was David Alexander but it’s so long ago I’m not 100% sure anymore). He said that he had no work for me, but that I should join SENSE, as being a member had really helped him.

You have supported SENSE many times before, but last year you decided to volunteer for Chair. What prompted you to stand up? How has your experience been?

Sally Hill, the outgoing Chair, called me to say that there were two vacant Executive Committee (EC) positions: Chair and Treasurer. I’m not great with numbers, so being Treasurer was not an option. I gave the matter some thought and said yes when Sally called back a few days later. SENSE has been very good to me, and I wanted to give something back. More selfishly, I also thought that this might be a good opportunity to develop some new skills.

How have you balanced chairing and working on different projects?

One very positive thing about the past year is that I’ve been working with a lovely, cooperative EC and amazing Team Leaders. The lack of friction has made my life as Chair a lot easier. Some periods are busier than others, such as the run up to the Special General Meeting last November, and the recent AGM. One thing that has made it more difficult to combine work with being Chair is the fact that most of my work last year came from interpreting, rather than translating and editing. After missing out on an important assignment because it clashed with an EC meeting, I asked the other EC members if they would mind switching our EC meetings to the weekend, and I was very grateful when everyone agreed to this.

Have you felt a change in work demand last year?

When I agreed to become Chair in March 2025, my business had been a satisfying mix of translating, editing and interpreting work for over 20 years. I’d lost one translation client in January to ChatGPT, but the past few years had been very successful, so I wasn’t too worried. By September 2025, however, I felt as though my business had fallen off a cliff. I still have some valued translation and editing clients, and I am working on finding more. But in answer to your question, I have definitely noticed a change in work demand! I’m not sure if I should be admitting to this as Chair, but I know that I am not the only member of SENSE affected this way.

How do you perceive AI is changing the language profession in general? How is this affecting interpreting work in particular?

I’d like to start off by saying that AI is affecting a great deal more than just the language profession. It uses enormous amounts of energy, and it takes gargantuan amounts of water to cool the data centres. Having scraped and stolen the work of writers and translators from all over the internet, AI is now feeding off its own dubious content. In case you haven’t guessed, I’m not a huge fan. But what does this mean when we zoom in on our own industry? I can’t say too much yet about how AI will affect interpreting. Much of my work involves simultaneous interpreting for focus groups, and so far, AI has not worked out how to simultaneously translate groups of six to eight people chatting enthusiastically, while conveying the emotions behind their words. Nor does it liaise with clients and fill them in on anything they may not have understood. Things can change quickly though. There always used to be a note-taker at each focus group to type up the session in Dutch, but this job disappeared virtually overnight because of AI.

In uncertain times, organizations often serve as safe places for professionals to find resources, support, new opportunities and networking. Are you optimistic about the future? What can SENSE offer our members and the public?

I think that SENSE has many talented, inspiring members who are full of great ideas. I’m also aware that many members do not share my views on AI, and that whatever we think of AI, we can’t just ignore it and hope that it will go away. I think one way to help SENSE members would be to organize workshops on how to use it. We also want to organize marketing sessions. There are some very good resources out there, including trainers like Joe Lépine, who are helping translators to negotiate this shifting environment. I am cautiously optimistic that there is still a place for language professionals. Many members of SENSE are still thriving as translators and editors, while others have pivoted to new careers within the language industry, such as writing. I also felt encouraged recently when a friend told me that one of her clients had forbidden her to use AI when translating books. I would love to hear more from other members on how they are negotiating the changing language industry, as it is more important than ever to share our knowledge and experiences. At the end of the day, SENSE is run by volunteers, so we need more members to present workshops, and speak at our Special Interest Groups (SIGs). We need to pull together.

By Jasper Pauwels, 9 April 2026

In March, SENSE’s UniSIG was happy to welcome back Nigel Harwood, professor in Applied Linguistics at the University of Sheffield, who had kindly agreed to share his thoughts on academic writing and proofreading in this brave new world full of generative AI. Some SENSE members will remember Nigel’s previous talk about his research on proofreading student texts in the UK.

Research confirms what we already know

Nigel shared the findings of recent empirical research regarding students’ use of AI during their studies. Unsurprisingly, all research points in the same direction: the vast majority of students are using AI and for all kinds of purposes, from information searching and grammar checking to creating entire essays with minimum input from themselves. In addition, few of the students surveyed said that they knew their university’s stance on AI in education, and even fewer seemed to care about the potential harmful effects of AI use on their learning, the environment or even on the value of their degree.

What the Russell Group says on AI

The Russell Group, an association of 24 top UK research universities to which the University of Sheffield belongs, produced an AI policy document which turned out to be very positive about AI. The group considers generative AI a fact of life and believes that students should be prepared for using AI in an ethical and responsible way in their future workplaces.

The AI policy document formulates the following five principles for education:

1. Support students and staff to become AI literate.
2. Equip staff to support and guide students’ use of AI.
3. Incorporate ethical use of AI in teaching and learning.
4. Uphold rigour and academic integrity.
5. Share best AI practices.

On paper, this all sounds very promising. In reality, however, the policy leaves many important questions unanswered, including how Nigel, as a lecturer, is supposed to support his students and adapt his assessment methods to generative AI use. In fact, the policy does not provide specifics of what is to be considered ethical and responsible AI use. How academic staff members are to respond to unethical or unresponsible AI use remains equally unclear. Finally, Nigel also raised the valid question of whether universities should embrace such a rapidly evolving technology so quickly; maybe universities should take pause and do what universities do best, that is, thinking critically in order to reach a well-informed decision.

Nigel experienced firsthand how the rise of large language models (LLMs) resulted in his students, many of whom are not native speakers of English, suddenly handing in perfectly polished texts overnight, even though his course instructions clearly forbade the use of AI. Like many lecturers, Nigel is unsure how to deal with this kind of student behaviour, especially since the new AI policy does not provide helpful advice on fraud prevention. Returning to three-hour invigilated exams and introducing oral defences might be part of the solution, but it remains to be seen whether the Russell Group universities are willing to change their assessment methods so drastically in the light of their techno-optimism.

What about proofreading at universities?

After Nigel’s presentation, we discussed the implications for SENSE members as language professionals working in or for academia. At first glance, it would appear that proofreading by humans, or even academic writing as a skill, has now been rendered obsolete. A pessimist would argue that cheating and making your way through your degree with minimum effort has never been easier. It was argued that, thankfully, there are still plenty of good students who want to put in the work and actually learn something at university. One way to help those students is actually old-fashioned human proofreading.

Learning how to write well requires intellectual hard labour, and we agreed that professional proofreaders – or editors if you will – can help students develop their writing skills. Rather than fixing their mistakes for them – what any decent LLM can do nowadays – proofreaders can explain to the student why they made certain interventions or elaborate how the student can express their thoughts more precisely. This is not only instructive for the student but also showcases the added value of the language professional.

As one SENSE member eloquently put it, with educative proofreading, you can help students find their own voice. And I personally expect that finding your own voice as an academic author might make all the difference in a world full of uninspired AI articles. Some SENSE members confirmed that academic journals are facing a torrent of AI-generated submissions. Which also goes to show that taking the easy option is a more widespread problem in academia.

Although Nigel’s message was generally not an optimistic one, we found enough reasons during our meeting to believe that academic writing and proofreading is far from dead and buried.

By Becky Tomas, 24 March 2026

During the spring of 2023, fresh from the coma of the pandemic, I decided to pursue a new career in proofreading and copy editing. I stumbled upon SENSE and was pleased to find that in a month’s time the annual General Meeting (AGM) would take place! 

On the day of the AGM I made my way to Utrecht, and was delighted to discover a lovely group of language professionals whose friendly and inquisitive nature made me feel very much at home straight away. 

A vacancy was announced at the start of the meeting for a new ‘SIG and Social Events Coordinator (SSEC)’. I knew immediately that putting myself forward for this role would be a great way to get to know other members, and help me find my feet in this new world of the language industry. 

Getting to know the different Special Interest Groups (SIGs) and their conveners was interesting. Everyone had a slightly different approach to organizing their SIG and it was fascinating to learn about the different topics being discussed, and about the wide range of fields in which SENSE members were involved. 

My first event as SSEC was a wet and windy day in Utrecht, enjoying a guided tour of historic remains beneath the Dom Tower in Utrecht, a story which spans the last 2000 years. I wrote a blog post about it then. 

That day at lunch we chatted some more and it was great to chat to my fellow SENSE members and find out more about their personal lives and interests. I discovered that my SENSE comrades are a diverse and entertaining group of people!

During my tenure as SSEC, I enjoyed organizing both Winter and Summer Socials, with a varied and fun line-up of activities. 

We enjoyed a magic show in Amsterdam in January 2024, during which Sieko left us slack-jawed in disbelief at his thrilling tricks! We also had a wonderful Summer Social in 2024, with a guided tour around Hortus Botanicus, the oldest botanical garden in the Netherlands, followed by a delicious lunch at a nearby cafe. 

In January 2025 I enlisted the help of fellow SENSE member Lizzie Kean, and together we planned a ‘surprise schedule of entertainment’ at In De Ruimte in Utrecht. We had a delicious pasta dinner, and we invited a ceilidh band who managed to get everyone dancing! It was so much fun. Later on that evening Lizzie led everyone in a communal singalong with piano accompaniment.

One year and a couple of social events later I decided it was time to hand over the reins to the next SENSE member, and step down as SSEC, and as a member of SENSE. I’ve had a wonderful time, learnt a lot and met a lot of friendly and interesting people, but my attempt at a new career in language was not as successful as I’d hoped.

The next person taking on the role will have a lot of fun (if you are interested, please reach out at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.), and if I have to give a piece of advice, it would be ‘don’t be afraid to take risks!’ SENSE members are an open-minded and fun bunch! Enjoy!

By Jennifer Ledoux (pen name Zephyr Trillian), 10 March 2026

When I was asked to write about fiction editing, perhaps reflecting on how it differs from non-fiction editing, I had to laugh – I’ve never edited a non-fiction manuscript in my life. But the prompt itself contains the answer. The fact that fiction editing is its own distinct discipline, with its own rules, instincts and particular brand of chaos, is precisely the point.

So, forgive me if I tell you what you already know, or if I review ideas you find tiresome or self-evident. I live less in the real world and more between the clouds, under the ocean, or on a spaceship to the Andromeda Galaxy. But perhaps your understanding of fiction editing mirrors my foggy understanding of non-fiction editing. Perhaps I can bring yours into focus.

Fiction editing is typically divided into distinct service levels, each with a different scope. Beta reading evaluates the reader experience: what’s working emotionally, what’s confusing and where momentum lags. Developmental editing zooms out further to assess structure: plot, character arcs, pacing and whether the story holds together as a whole. Copyediting and proofreading then work at the most granular level, cleaning grammar, consistency and accuracy only after the larger structural questions are resolved. These tiers exist because the focus required at each level is fundamentally different. Trying to complete all three levels of editing simultaneously usually means doing none of them well, so instead each manuscript must journey through the whole three-tiered process, one level at a time.

These service levels seem to structure fiction editing into a macro-to-micro format. However, when working within any level, it’s still useful to consider the work from both the macro and the micro at once. Does each word and sentence clearly communicate a point? Does each scene and character drive the story forward – or at least deepen immersion? Does each chapter matter? Every element should earn its place. The nature of this complexity means a good fiction editor must function as both a technical editor and a reader simultaneously – always asking not just whether prose is correct, but whether it’s working to serve the story, and in what capacity.

Editing fiction also requires the ability to judge the difference between stylistic flair and choices that obscure communication. There are fundamental English rules such as tense consistency, basic grammar, and subject-object agreement, but all rules can be bent and broken in service to a story. Consider ‘Flowers for Algernon’ by Daniel Keyes, in which basic spelling and punctuation rules are deliberately shattered to showcase the protagonist’s lack of mental acumen. The story wouldn’t be the same without that stylistic choice, a circumstance the editor no doubt had to work around – maintaining enough spelling and grammatical errors to showcase the protagonist’s state of mind, while simultaneously maintaining enough clarity to allow the story through.

The fiction editor is therefore always charged with considering what rules have been broken on purpose, what rules have been accidentally or needlessly cracked in half, and how to explain all of this respectfully to their clientele. Sometimes they’ll even be tasked to act as an unofficial mentor to their clients, who often express a deep wish to improve and will ask questions. I’ve spent many hours explaining fundamental concepts to authors who have learnt their craft independently of any school or study programme. It’s common for authors to be very skilled in some areas, such as character development, and to lack in others, such as action scenes. It’s important to remind authors that writing is a learnable skill, just like playing piano or baking.

Here’s a small sample of issues I regularly flag:

• Overuse of individual words (e.g. ‘gently’, ‘smirked’, ‘eyes’, ‘fingers’, ‘whispered’)
• Tense confusion (present tense slipping into past tense and vice versa)
• Portraying the same concept repetitively (e.g. ‘Her lips were rubies, almost crimson red, like ripe cherries’)
• Overpacking sentences with modifiers (e.g. ‘His gray, crumbling, ivy-coated castle in the west of the country, along the coast, was set against the golden, shimmering, and life-giving air of the wheat-covered Great Plains’)
• Weak verb choices (e.g. ‘walked’ vs. ‘strode’ or ‘cried’ vs. ‘sobbed’)
• Weak adjective choices (e.g. ‘Her legs were perfect’)
• Spatial continuity errors (e.g. a character leaves to go inside, but later on is then still present in the car without explanation)

Interfacing with authors is perhaps the most difficult part of the job. Authors are often compelled to write stories due to strong emotions or beliefs that flow from their innermost identities. This means that many authors feel like they’re exposing their hearts and are uniquely concerned about their work’s reception. Some authors understand that even the most brilliant writing can always be tweaked, polished and adjusted based on artistic preferences. Others meet any mention of edits with argumentative behaviour, defending themselves against what they perceive as an onslaught of criticism rather than the recommendations of a professional they hired precisely to recommend improvements. I’ve learnt to get ahead of this by providing a disclaimer at the top of my deliverables. It sets the tone, both reminding the author that I’m there to help them and that they’re welcome to discard all recommendations if it suits them. This has proven to help anxious authors keep their feet more firmly on the earth, where we can work together successfully.

Fiction editing is a strange discipline – part technical analysis, part emotional intelligence, part diplomacy – but that strangeness is exactly what makes it worthwhile. Every fiction manuscript is a leap of faith, a heart unlocked for the world to see. It’s my privilege to polish those hearts and then release them, shining, back to their keepers.

By Claire Bacon, 24 February 2026

Many of us in SENSE work with academics whose native language is not English. This sometimes involves helping our clients get research papers ready for publication in scientific journals. Often, these texts have structural problems that need to be fixed before we can deal with more minor language errors like spelling, grammar and word choice. This is because a good overall structure gives the paper cohesion – it ensures that the paper tells a compelling story with a clear message. In this blog post, I explain the main structural problems that lead to poor coherence in scientific papers and how to manage them.

Wrong information in the wrong section

Research papers typically contain Abstract, Introduction, Methods, Results and Discussion sections. In theory this should make research papers easy to write – but scientists often put the wrong information in these sections. Here are the common mistakes:

• Abstract: The Abstract needs to summarize the entire research story. That means it needs to define the knowledge gap, state the research question, describe the main methods and results, answer the research question, and outline the main implications. Often, the author pays too much attention to one point at the expense of another. So they may give a lot of background information but neglect the results – or they may focus completely on their findings without giving any context. Encourage them to spend one or two sentences at the most on each point so that the Abstract is complete.
• Introduction: The Introduction needs to introduce the topic, explain the study rationale, describe the current state of the knowledge, specify the problem being addressed, and ask the research question. A common mistake is giving too much general background information that is not relevant to the study question. Ideally, the author will start off fairly broad, gradually narrowing the background information down to focus on the specific research question. Help the author by flagging any information that does not seem directly relevant to the research question. Another common problem is not specifying the research question. This is central to the focus of the paper so it must be included at the end of the Introduction.
• Methods: The Methods section needs to give the reader all the information they need to understand what was done and to repeat any experiments. A common mistake is leaving out experimental information or not giving enough details. So let the author know if they describe data without saying how they collected it. Another problem is describing results – here we can remind the author that the Methods section is for describing what we did, not what we found.
• Results: The Results section needs to present the findings in a logical order using narrative text, tables, and figures as appropriate. A common mistake is not referring to all tables and figures in the narrative text and in the right order. Something else to watch out for is interpretation of the data – the author should objectively describe their findings in this section and leave the interpretation for the Discussion section. Look out for verbs like suggesting and showing, which indicate the author has moved beyond a simple description of the findings.
• Discussion: This is where the author should answer the research question – preferably in the opening paragraph. A common mistake is starting the Discussion by going back to the beginning and repeating the background information. This is not necessary – advise the author that simply repeating the research question before answering it gives the reader enough of a reminder of what the study is about. Also watch out for excessive repetition of results in the Discussion. Here the author should be focusing on explaining and interpreting the findings, so a very brief reminder of the data is sufficient. Flag any sentences that contain specific data with P values and remind the author that these details are for the Results section.

Not asking or answering the research question

The research question is central to the cohesion of a research paper because each section centres around it: the Introduction asks the question, the Methods explains how the question was answered, the Results gives the information needed to answer the question, and the Discussion answers the question and justifies the answer. Not asking the research question at the end of the Introduction leaves the reader wondering what the purpose of the study is, so add a note for your author if they have left it out. Another problem is not providing a clear answer to the research question at the beginning of the Discussion. The author needs to answer the question in the opening paragraph of the Discussion to provide the basis for the justification of that answer that will follow. Something else to watch out for is that the research question is consistent throughout the paper – that the author actually answers the question they asked at the start rather than providing an answer to a completely new question (it happens more than you may think!).

Not structuring and linking paragraphs properly

Paragraphs are an essential tool for structuring ideas and arguments clearly and logically. Scientists struggle to structure and link their paragraphs properly in research papers and the result is that they often do not fully develop and conclude each topic before moving on to the next, which contributes to poor coherence. Checking that each paragraph deals with one topic is the best place to start, and explaining that each paragraph needs to introduce, develop and conclude one topic is also often helpful. Scientists sometimes need a lot of expert intervention to help them with this, so be prepared to restructure paragraphs and add helpful topic sentences where needed.

Help is at hand

Expert editors with a sound knowledge of how a research paper should be structured can help academic authors get their work published. Offering clear guidance on the issues outlined in this post will help academics communicate their research in a clear and compelling way.

By Pierke Bosschieter, 5 February 2026

The index is one of the most underestimated parts of a book. When it is missing, readers notice immediately; when it is poorly made, they notice even more. A bad index sends readers on wild goose chases, points them to pages that say nothing useful, or simply fails to acknowledge what the book is actually about. A good index, paradoxically, disappears entirely. It does its job so quietly that few readers stop to consider that it was designed, structured and written by a human who made hundreds of small, deliberate decisions.

For editors and translators, this should sound familiar. We all work with texts in ways that are meant to be seamless and invisible. When the work is good, no one comments on it; when it is bad, it becomes impossible to ignore. Indexing belongs to this same family of text-based crafts, even though it often sits at the very back of the book and well outside the spotlight.

The key difference is that indexers do not work on the narrative itself, but on the infrastructure around it. If the text is the building, the index is the floor plan and the signage. Readers may admire the architecture, but when they are lost – or in a hurry – they reach for the map. A well-made index does not ask for attention; it simply gets the reader where they need to go.

Words versus concepts

One of the most persistent misconceptions is that an index is merely an alphabetical list of words extracted from a text. This idea is reinforced by software that can generate something index-like at remarkable speed. What such tools cannot do is understand what a text is about. Indexing is not about words; it is about concepts. It involves deciding what is significant, what is secondary, how ideas relate to one another, and which terms readers are most likely to use when searching for information.

That conceptual focus makes indexing closely related to editing and translating. Like editors and translators, indexers read analytically and critically. They interpret meaning, register nuance, and consider the expectations of a specific audience. The additional layer is usability. Indexers constantly shift perspective from writer to reader, asking not ‘what did the author mean?’ but ‘how will someone try to find this?’.

This shift in perspective also explains why authors themselves are usually not the obvious choice to create the index for their own work. Authors are deeply involved in their text. They know its structure, terminology, and internal logic too well. That familiarity makes it difficult to step back and see the book as a user would. Indexing requires distance and a willingness to question the text’s assumptions. Much like self-editing or self-translating, author indexing often prioritizes intention over accessibility.

Indexing requires training

What is less widely known is that indexing is not an improvised activity guided by personal preference. Professional indexers work according to established rules and conventions, including international standards such as ISO norms. These norms address matters such as structure, consistency, cross-referencing, and clarity. They exist for the same reason editorial style guides exist: to ensure that readers can rely on predictable, intelligible navigation. A recent example of this ongoing standardization work can be found in the NISO recommended practice ‘ANSI/NISO Z39.4-2021 Criteria for Indexes’. Indexing may look creative, but it is creativity exercised within a clearly defined framework.

The craft can also be learnt. There are structured training routes, including well-established online courses in the UK and US, and indexing is supported by professional societies across the world. These organizations provide education, guidance, mentoring, and a shared understanding of best practice. In the Netherlands, indexers are represented by the Netherlands Indexers Network (NIN) while many international indexers are affiliated with bodies such as the Society of Indexers (SI) and the American Society for Indexing (ASI). Their existence underlines a simple fact: indexing is a discipline with its own standards, not an afterthought to be tacked on at the end. If you are considering adding indexing to your professional portfolio, a short course with Sylvia Coates can offer a practical introduction and help you assess whether indexing is a good fit for you.

The skills required reflect this. Indexers need excellent reading comprehension, strong analytical abilities, and the capacity to think in systems rather than sentences. They must be consistent without being rigid, precise without becoming pedantic, and flexible without losing structure. They also need patience, concentration, and a certain tolerance for working in obscurity. When an index functions perfectly, it rarely attracts praise.

Sister crafts

Indexers also share challenges that editors and translators will recognize immediately. One of these is competition from AI. Automated tools can produce indexes quickly and cheaply, and in some contexts, they may appear adequate at first glance. What they lack is conceptual understanding. They recognize surface language rather than meaning, and they have no sense of how readers search, hesitate, or misunderstand. As with machine translation and automated editing, AI can be a useful aid, but it cannot replace informed human judgment.

Another familiar challenge is competition from untrained providers – the beunhazen – who believe that ‘anyone can make an index’. In a narrow sense, this is true. Anyone can produce something that looks like an index. The problem is that poor indexing damages books, frustrates readers, and undermines the profession itself. Editors and translators have long experience with this dynamic and its consequences.

Despite these pressures, the index remains essential. In an age of information overload, access matters as much as content. A well-constructed index increases a book’s usability, extends its lifespan, and supports serious engagement with complex material. It turns information into something navigable rather than overwhelming.

Indexing is therefore not a marginal activity, but a sister craft to editing and translating. It is governed by standards, supported by training, and sustained by the same conviction: quality is the result of expertise, not automation or convenience. And, like so much human work done well, it is mostly invisible – until it isn’t there.

Pierke Bosschieter has been a professional indexer since 2005. She specializes in Middle Eastern studies. She’s one of the coordinators of ICRIS (the international coordinating body for indexers) and is on the editorial board of The Indexer (an international academic journal). She’s a driving force behind NIN, and is mentoring beginning indexers and trying to bring awareness of indexing to the Dutch publishing industry.

By Jan Klerkx, 22 January 2026

On 28 November 2025, SENSE member David Barick, experienced teacher, editor and translator of academic research texts, presented a lively interactive Zoom talk under the catchy title of ‘Do they still need me?’ on the fraught question of whether AI will replace humans as teachers, editors and translators of academic research writing.

David started by referring to some workshops on the topic that he had recently attended. A European Association of Science Editors (EASE) panel discussion concluded that ‘ChatGPT has a weak ability to differentiate between good/excellent and weak/OK research.’  At the same panel discussion, James Zhou presented results of a survey among researchers from 110 institutions, asking whether they found LLM tools helpful for their academic writing. Nearly 60% of respondents found them ‘helpful’ or ‘highly helpful’, and about 20% found them ‘much more helpful than most human feedback’.

David then went on to discuss some of his own experiences of what LLMs, specifically ChatGPT, can do when it comes to editing scientific papers. He had asked ChatGPT to do some of the editing exercises he uses in his own teaching. He commented on paragraph structure and paid specific attention to coherence techniques, including given-new patterns, repetition of key words, grammatical parallelism and the use of transitional phrases and cohesive markers. He asked the audience to comment on the examples too, using the Zoom chat function.

In an example on thermonuclear energy production, ChatGPT did indeed improve many of the coherence problems, but it also produced longer sentences than in the original, even though it generally recommended shorter sentences.

When asked to comment on the use of coherence techniques in a sample text on endometriosis, ChatGPT correctly identified the use of repetition of key terms and the use of linking devices and parallel structures. The program’s editorial judgement was that ‘minor changes would likely be enough to make the text publishable for a specialist readership’, but that ‘more intervention would be beneficial’ for a more general audience. However, the suggestions it made for such interventions were minimal and not very helpful. Under the heading ‘Break up long, dense sentences’ it produced a suggestion that actually resulted in a less concise paragraph! It also suggested breaking up a nine-sentence paragraph using subsections with separate headings, which journal editors would probably not appreciate.

The final example concerned a longer text (an entire introduction section) on alcohol consumption patterns, which was judged by the audience to be poorly written. They suggested it had not been written by a native speaker of English. ChatGPT also recognized this and even correctly surmised that the text was written by an author from Spain or France (the author was in fact Spanish). It also correctly identified many of the problems of coherence, grammar and collocations. Other suggestions, however, were less helpful and often involved introducing words or phrases that did not add useful content and actually hampered the flow. Some of the additions sounded very generic, not specifically relating to the topic of the text, e.g. ‘This review aims to synthesize recent findings, identify consistent patterns of impairment, and highlight methodological limitations to guide future research.’

Some of ChatGPT’s comments showed that it failed to distinguish between closely related words, e.g. ‘binge drinking’ and ‘hangover’, which it both referred to as patterns of alcohol intake.

Finally, David showed us what ChatGPT had to say when it was asked: ‘ChatGPT can give extensive information on how to write a scientific research article. Do you think that it is a satisfactory substitute for human teachers of this subject, or that it will become so in the future?’ ChatGPT’s answer was rather diplomatic: it claimed that ChatGPT (or AI in general) was already good at explaining structure and conventions clearly, providing quick feedback and editing assistance, generating tailored practice tasks and summarising or explaining complex research writing guides. In contrast, it suggested that human instructors would still be better at mentorship and judgment, understanding nuance and emotion, evaluating scientific reasoning and teaching through dialogue and modelling.

David’s final conclusion was therefore that AI would not replace writing instructors any time soon, as humans will still be better at critical thinking and social learning. AI may function as a complement to human teaching, but a good teacher will always add useful extras to what AI can do.