STYLE SHEETS

Set of filing cabinets with one drawer open and files inside

Photo by Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash

One Book to Rule Them All, One Sheet to Rule Just Yours

A Guide to Style Sheets (and Staying Sane)

Let’s face it—your brain is not a filing cabinet. It’s more like a chaotic inbox with questionable spam filters. Enter the humble style sheet: the under-appreciated hero of writing continuity and editor sanity.

What Is a Style Sheet, Anyway?

A style sheet is your manuscript’s cheat sheet—minus the cheating. It’s a personalised document where you log all those pesky details that future-you definitely won’t remember.

Think of it as your manuscript’s unofficial rulebook. It can live in a scrappy notebook, a sleek Word doc, or a colour-coded spreadsheet if you’re feeling particularly smug. What goes in?

Here’s the basics:

Whether you’re Team Oxford Comma or a serial killer of punctuation
Preferred spellings and hyphenation (is it co-operate or cooperate, you rebel?)
How thoughts are styled (italics, quote marks, or interpretive dance)
Character names, appearances, quirks, and scandalous backstories

In short: it’s a glorified brain-dump, and it works.

Style Sheet vs. Style Guide – The Odd Couple of Editing

If you’ve already taken a look at the Style Sheet Template, you might now be wondering: What is a style guide? Aren’t they the same thing as a style sheet, just with a wardrobe change?

Ah, dear reader, if only. A style guide and a style sheet may work hand-in-hand, but they’re more like the respectable godparent and the quirky favourite uncle of the publishing world—related, yes, but doing very different jobs.

The Style Guide: Rules, Regulations, and a Touch of Pedantry

Think of a style guide as the Big Book of Grammar Law. It lays down the rules for spelling, punctuation, formatting, and usage across a wide range of documents. It’s not personalised to your novel—it’s more like the general dress code for a literary dinner party.

For fiction writers, the usual go-to is the Chicago Manual of Style (CMOS)—the venerable tome that decides things like how you style ellipses, when to hyphenate compound adjectives, and whether ‘alright’ is, in fact, all wrong.

In short: a style guide tells you how things should generally be done across the board in your genre or industry. It’s the universal rulebook—like the Highway Code, but with fewer speeding fines and more em dashes.

The Style Sheet: Your Book’s Personal Handbook

Now, enter the style sheet. This humble document doesn’t try to be universal. Instead, it focuses entirely on your manuscript—and your manuscript alone.

Your novel may generally follow CMOS, but what happens when you make up an alien language? Or decide that your post-apocalyptic detective always spells “colour” without the ‘u’ because of some weird dystopian branding law? That’s where the style sheet steps in—recording your unique choices, spellings, and world-building details so your editor doesn’t start pulling out their hair trying to decode your creative quirks. I go into more detail on this a little further down.

While style guides bring structure, style sheets bring personalisation. They’re how you customise the rules to fit your world—and how your editor keeps everything consistent without ringing you at 2 a.m. asking if it’s “Pull-Latch Receiver” or “Pull Latch Receiver” again.

Why This Matters During Editing (And Saves Everyone’s Sanity and Time)

Copyeditors and proofreaders are the unsung heroes who iron out the creases in your manuscript’s clothing. But even heroes need a map. Without a style guide and a style sheet, they’re flying blind, guessing whether you meant to spell “judgement” with an extra ‘e’ or if your time-travel sequence genuinely jumps from 1842 to 1840.

The style guide gives them the overarching rules they should follow.
The style sheet tells them where you break those rules—or invent entirely new ones.

And if your manuscript changes hands—from developmental editor to copyeditor to proofreader and possibly even to typesetter—these tools ensure your style choices don’t get lost in the handover, like a literary game of pass the parcel.

So, Who Makes These Magical Documents?

The style guide is compiled by a crack team of linguistic overlords (I mean, scholars and editors) and is updated regularly.
The style sheet, however, is usually created by the copyeditor, and sometimes even by the author if they’re particularly organised or world-building-savvy.

Why Bother? The Part Where I Convince You It’s Not Just Procrastination

Not sold yet? Fair enough. But here’s what a style sheet actually does for you:

It keeps you organised. Instead of frantically flipping through chapter four to check if John’s eyes were blue or brooding, pop it into the sheet.
It maintains consistency. Was it Elisabeth or Elizabeth? Were you writing US or U.S.? Trust us—your readers will notice, and so will your editor.
It helps your editor help you. If you’ve got rules, preferences, or whimsical grammar choices, tell us. A style sheet saves us both from awkward conversations like: “Did you mean for the dog’s name to change halfway through?”

If you don’t give us one, we’ll make our own. But it won’t be half as insightful—or possibly as weird—as yours.

“House Style? I Don’t Even Own Property” – What to Do When Your Editor Asks

At some point in your authorial journey, an editor may ask you, quite innocently, “Do you have a house style?” You may panic. You may check your mortgage documents. You may wonder if they’ve confused you with an interior designer.

Rest assured: they haven’t. “House style” doesn’t refer to wallpaper patterns or curtain choices—it’s editor-speak for the specific preferences and stylistic quirks you want applied to your manuscript.

So what is house style, exactly?

Your house style is essentially your literary fingerprint. It’s a set of choices—whether conscious or subconscious—you’ve made while writing:

Do you always write ‘email’ or ‘e-mail’?
Do you allow split infinitives or fear the wrath of your old grammar teacher?
Are you married to British spellings, or does the occasional “color” slip through your defences?
Do you love an em dash or have a torrid affair with the semicolon?

Some authors haven’t formally thought about their house style. That’s okay—this is where your style sheet comes in. It becomes your house style. If your editor asks, you don’t need a grand manifesto. You need a tidy document that says, “Here’s how I spell things, style things, and occasionally break the rules.”

How do you provide it without bursting into flames?

Use the downloadable Style Sheet Template provided at the bottom of this guide. Fill it in with your preferences (no need to overthink—just start with what you do know), and voilà, you’ve got yourself a bespoke house style.

Even better: if your manuscript is a sequel or part of a sprawling series where three people are named Jack and two countries are at war, your editor will weep tears of gratitude.

And should your editor ask for it, you can now smile smugly and say, “Of course I have one.”

What Goes On It? Not Everything, Calm Down

Your style sheet isn’t a dumping ground for every thought you’ve ever had. Think “useful reference,” not “diary entry from 2007.”

Here’s what’s worth noting:

Exceptions to the rules. If you had to look it up once, you’ll probably need to again. Save yourself the Googling.

Personal preferences. Whether you spell “grey” or “gray” is your business—until it’s everyone’s business halfway through your novel.

Don’t go overboard. Non-fiction works won’t need as much detail. You’ve already got a bibliography. The style sheet is for your quirks, not your credentials.

Building Your Style Sheet (Big Picture to the Nitty-Gritty)

Start broad, end precise. Here’s a breakdown:

1. Syntax & Style Choices (AKA “Why Is This Even Bold?”)

Dictionary used (Oxford, Collins, that suspicious one you found online).
Style guide followed (Chicago Manual? AP? Your own chaotic system?).
Typography decisions—do your em dashes have space? (— Like this? Or—like this?)
Internal thoughts styling, number formatting, and other house rules.

2. Timelines (AKA “When Did They Get Married Again?”)

Birthdays, deaths, divorces—just the cheerful stuff.
Key events, discoveries, dramatic reveals. Especially handy for flashbacks and plot twists.
For world-building: wars, inventions, royal lineage, and the Great Biscuit Shortage of 1842 (or whatever suits your genre).

3. Characters (AKA “Wait, Didn’t He Have a Beard?”)

Full names, nicknames, aliases, physical descriptions.
Moral codes, religions, powers, allergies (because you know someone will eat the wrong nut).
If you’re using real people, keep those citations tight. Editors are nitpickers by trade.

4. Geography & Politics (AKA “The Map You Swore You’d Remember”)

Key regions, leaders, languages, and suspiciously silent neighbours.
Descriptions of terrain that impact plot: volcanic cliffs, mystical forests, the M25…
In fiction, paste in your original descriptions to avoid writing three slightly different capital cities.

5. World-Building Elements (AKA “The Magic System That Made Sense… Once”)

Rules of your universe. If the potion only works under a full moon while whistling in G minor—write it down.
Scientific advancements, interplanetary regulations, or just the rules for your made-up card game. If it matters to the story, onto the sheet it goes.

Final Thoughts: In Praise of the Unsexy, Life-Saving Style Sheet

Is a style sheet thrilling? No. Will it help you avoid plot holes the size of a small moon? Absolutely.

Think of it as your manuscript’s backstage manager—making sure everything runs smoothly while the star (your story) takes the spotlight.

Whether you’re writing your third dystopian trilogy, a deeply researched historical epic, or a how-to guide for assembling office furniture (bless you), a style sheet saves your time, your editor’s patience, and your characters from spontaneous personality changes.

So do yourself—and everyone who has to read your book—a favour: make a style sheet. Refer to it. Worship it. Keep it off the floor where the cat can sit on it.

Because continuity matters. And nothing ruins dramatic tension faster than blue eyes that mysteriously become green halfway through a smouldering gaze.

Download your ready-to-go style sheet template below—because we all know creating the template is just another way to procrastinate on actually writing.