Letters From the House
An editor’s salon on story, craft, and the courage to revise.
I believe editing is a craft — a discipline learned through years of apprenticeship, trial, and curiosity. I came up studying under people who had done the same, and what they passed down wasn’t just technique; it was respect for story, for the author’s intent, and for the invisible labor of learning what you don’t yet know.
Today, that craft feels like a dying art. Too many people rush into “helping writers” without first learning how to sit inside a story. They leap before they understand what they’re changing — and that does a disservice to both the work and the writers who trust them.
This is my answer to that. Letters from the House is where I slow the process down, honor the craft, and share what I’ve learned — and what I’m still learning.
I don’t believe editors exist to fix stories; I believe we’re caretakers of them. We help authors think more deeply, make intentional choices, and find the heartbeat of their own work.
If there’s one truth that runs through everything I teach, it’s this:
You don’t know what you don’t know — until you do.
And that’s the beauty of it.
Letters from the House is the editorial journal of House of Braus—where we slow down, think deeply, and talk honestly about the art and emotional architecture of revision.
A quiet corner of the publishing world for authors who are tired of quick tips and ready for craft with context.
A Quick Note on Intention
I’ve been having a lot of conversations lately—some with clients, some with industry friends, and a few with authors trying to figure out what the next step is. And the same questions keep surfacing:
How do I know who to trust?
What kind of edit do I actually need?
How do I get feedback without getting crushed?
What’s worth investing in—and what isn’t?
How to Know Whether to Take Someone’s Advice
An author and I were talking recently about the state of things—how the publishing world has shifted, and how we both hope the pendulum might eventually swing back. Less contests. More connection. Less performance-based content. More genuine conversation.
She said something that stuck with me: Even if the industry does shift back toward engagement over contests, how are authors supposed to know who to listen to?
It’s a good question.
And while I’m no crystal ball of perfect answers (really, I promise), I have been thinking about this one for a long time.
Let’s Talk About Rubrics, Baby
Confession time: I used to love judging writing contests.
Seriously. There was something strangely satisfying about giving unsolicited advice without the need for follow-up, all wrapped in a shroud of anonymity. Free publicity, a sense of doing good, the illusion of authority? Chef’s kiss.
But these days?
I stay far, far away.
Because once you’ve seen behind the curtain enough times, you start to notice things. Things you can’t unsee. Things that feel increasingly hard to excuse.