The single most beneficial thing I did before my first book, Ramblings & Roundabouts, was published was to recruit beta readers. A beta reader is someone who will voluntarily read a manuscript. These volunteers can be friends, family, and acquaintances. I asked my beta readers to read my manuscript for the mere promise of including them in the Acknowledgements at the back of my book, that's it.
I went all out and asked about 240 people. Twenty agreed to read. It was a varied mix of folks, some of whom hardly know me, which was good because they were the most objective. I changed how the book started, included maps and itineraries, and added three more chapters all based on my beta readers' excellent suggestions.
With my current book project, Homeschooling Without Regrets, I asked less people but received nearly the same amount of affirmatives: twenty-one. This time I have sent the first one-third of my book for my beta readers to critique. At about 80 pages, it's less to tackle at once than the entire manuscript. I hope they will want to read the remaining two sections once they are finished.
This time I offered to provide a hard copy or email the manuscript. The preferences turned out about half and half. With the manuscript, I made it clear that I was not looking for help with low level things such as punctuation, spelling, and grammar. I included instructions, asking them to critique higher level aspects of my writing such as clarity, thoroughness, flow, voice, and feelings, all of which I defined. I also asked for their absolute honesty and promised we would still be friends after they submitted their constructive criticism.
That first third is currently in my beta readers' hands. I anxiously await their feedback. I am confident that their input will help improve my manuscript because they are not as close to it as I am.
I leave you with a photo of the Five-needle Fetid Marigold taken in my neighborhood's pollinator garden. These cheerful little wildflowers spring up in the most inhospitable places such as cracks in the scorching sidewalks of southern Arizona.