Let’s face it: most nonfiction sucks.

And let’s face it, this seldom comes from bad content. If you hope to publish in the nonfiction world, they keep a not-so-best-kept secret called “the book proposal.” I write proposals for nonfiction writers and the gist goes: “if you have a nonfiction book idea, never write the manuscript. Write the proposal. Publishers will pay you to write your book.”

The upside? People earn bookoo beau coup* bucks writing nonfiction.

The downside? Most nonfiction published reads like first-run hack fiction.

I’d guess that one in every twenty nonfic books reads strong and crisp. A mere fraction of those join the literary cannon and those books often come not from great nonfiction writers but from great fiction writers—Thoreau’s Civil Disobedience or Lewis’s Mere Christianity. To illustrate this stylistic void, I plucked three random books off of my shelf from the same genre. I could have selected any genre, like “political science” or “leadership,” but the nearest section happens to be Christian nonfiction. I find this coincidental since Christian nonfic seems worst. After all, the “Christian” market employs fewer filters than any other market.

Richard Foster, Gregory Boyd, and Kyle Idleman wrote the following books. I chose them due to sell-through: these authors sold more units than any of others near my desk. Having never met any of these well-respected gentlemen, I feel no emotional connection and can therefore respond to their texts as mere strings of words. I will select passages without bias, pulling straight from the first page of the following books: Celebration of Discipline, Myth of a Christian Nation, Not a Fan.

First, the original passage from Richard Foster:

[before] Superficiality is the curse of our age. The doctrine of instant satisfaction is a primary spiritual problem. The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people. The classical Disciplines of the spiritual life call us to move beyond surface living into the depths. They invite us to explore the inner caverns of the spiritual realm. The urge us to be the answer to a hollow world.

Now with a two-minute style edit:

[after] Superficiality curses our age. Of all spiritual problems this doctrine of instant satisfaction sits chief. We need neither a great number of intelligent people nor gifted people, but rather deep people. Classical Disciplines of the spiritual life call us to dive below surface living into the depths, to explore the inner caverns of The Spirit’s realm, to turn into the answer for our hollow world.

From Dr. Boyd:

[before] To be a king, one must have a kingdom – a king’s domain – and Pilate wanted to know if Jesus thought the Jews were his domain. It was a straightforward question, requiring a simple yes or no. But Jesus, typically, did not give the expected response. Rather, he told Pilate that his kingdom “is not from this world” (John 18:36). Pilate assumed Jesus’ kingdom could be understood on the same terms as every other earthly kingdom – along geographical, ethnic, nationalistic, and ideological lines.

But after a style edit…

[after] Kings have kingdoms – their domains – and Pilate asked if Jesus’ domain included the Jews. Pilate raised a straightforward question, expected “yes” or “no.” But Jesus typically gave unexpected responses. He told Pilate his kingdom came from outside “this world” (John 18:36). Pilate understood Jesus’ kingdom by the terms of every other earthly kingdom: its geographical, ethnic, nationalistic, and ideological lines.

Brother Idleman’s work reads like this:

[before] Are you a follower of Jesus? I would say the chances are pretty good that you just skipped over that question. You may have read it, but I doubt it carried much weight or had any real impact. But would you let me ask you this question again? It’s the most important question you will ever answer. Are you a follower of Jesus?

Here’s his intro after a style edit:

[after] Do you follow Jesus? You skipped over that question. You might have read it, but it carried little weight or impact. Let me ask you again, since no question you ever read will garner more importance than this: Do you follow Jesus?

Of course someone will object that this only emerges in Christian nonfiction or that I treated these authors unfairly by singling out one genre. For those who make such an objection, [edit:] check the comments below.

Am I claiming to be THE answer to this enormous problem? Hardly. Instead, I hope to reveal the power one style editor holds with three short years of experience under his belt. Furthermore, a career style editor could saturate your nonfiction’s greyscale with color.

Few write nonfiction out of love for the written word. More often people write nonfiction because they boast an established audience like cocker spaniel owners or stockbrokers and can guarantee sales. That’s why many of these excerpts read not like literary manuscripts but like oral manuscripts: these people speak more often than they write.

Most nonfiction writers fade after a few short years, yet great nonfiction still rises above the cloudbank every now and again to join the classics. Is it enough to settle for good content? Does form matter? I think it does. In fact, I would argue that the greatness of classics comes not merely from good content but great voice. Plato reads cleaner than neoplatonists—and that alone makes him greater.

Your churches desire deeper liturgy.
Your kitchens deserve clearer recipes.
Your dojos demand tighter training manuals.

So do us all a favor and hire a freelance style editor.

* See? Even I needed an editor. Thanks to Kiddo for teaching me this new French-derivative word.