In-house editing jobs have exploded in the last decade. Retail brands, museums, universities, government departments, digital agencies—they’re all hiring editors to churn out content for social, marketing, internal promos, and short-form campaigns.

On the surface, it looks like a win.

You're being paid to edit. You’re working in a team. You’re producing video content regularly. But for a growing number of in-house editors, the excitement wears off pretty quickly.

It’s not burnout. It’s not a lack of motivation. It’s something harder to articulate, but you feel it deeply.

A creative wall.

The Rise of the In-House Editor

This new wave of editors is almost entirely self-taught. You learn on the job. You move fast. You figure it out as you go. There’s no formal feedback loop like there used to be in the traditional post-production world—no experienced editor mentoring you on structure, story, or rhythm.

You’re on a small team. You don’t choose your projects. And after a while, it all starts to blend into one. It’s digital. It’s short-form. It’s fast-turnaround. And it’s the same kind of content, over and over again.

There’s no variation. There’s no room to try out new things. And crucially—there’s no path to the complexity of high-end films.

The Editing Ceiling No One Talks About

The work is consistent. The deadlines are tight. But the storytelling muscle? It barely gets touched. Because here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Just because you're editing doesn't mean you're evolving. 

Most in-house editors aren’t doing anything wrong. The problem is structural. When every video is 60 seconds long, heavy on graphics, light on emotion, and aimed at social media algorithms—there’s only so far you can go.

You plateau.

And this is the editing wall that so many hit. You feel like you’ve mastered the job, but deep down, you know you're nowhere near your creative potential.

What In-House Editors Really Want

Talk to enough in-house editors and a pattern emerges.

They don’t just want to “make content.”
They want to craft stories.
They want to build dramatic narratives.
They want to work on something that lasts longer than a few minutes.

They want to edit documentaries. Drama. Essays. Mini-series. Full-length features. Something with multiple arcs. Structure. Emotional pacing. Visual strategy.

The tools are there. The software is open. But there’s a ceiling you can't break through when your entire day job revolves around short-form commercial content.

So how do you escape it? How do you go from in-house generalist to narrative storyteller?

Step One: Stop Waiting for the Job to Train You

This is the biggest mindset shift most editors need to make.

Your job is not your training. 

It pays the bills. It fills your schedule. But if it’s not pushing you to develop high-level storytelling instincts, it’s not preparing you for the career you actually want.

This is the paradox of modern editing careers: the industry gives you speed and opportunity, but almost zero time to actually evolve. So you have to build that second skill layer yourself.

Step Two: Build Your Storytelling Muscles Outside Work

When I started out I worked early mornings, late evenings, weekends on anything I could. I’d edit for a pizza and a few beers. I had a day job that paid my rent and access to an Avid, everything else was pretty much free.

If you’re building your skills outside formal training, this guide to self-taught editing breaks down how to make the most of that path.

If you want to edit long-form narrative projects, you have to start cutting long-form narrative projects. There’s no way to replicate or cheat this. Evenings. Weekends. Whenever you can find the time.

But you’re also going to need to find long-form content to cut.

•  Pick YouTube channels or creators whose work you respect—documentary, essay, storytelling, commentary.
•  Reach out. Offer to edit something for free or cheap. Tell them you’re building your skills and want to contribute.
•  Contact film schools and ask to speak to directors who are just graduating.
•  Treat those projects like training grounds, not content gigs.

One of the best TV drama editors I know got his first feature recently by doing exactly this. He cut indie projects at night. Passion films on the weekend. No fanfare. No big connections. Just years of disciplined practice outside his official job.

Eventually, a director noticed. He got his shot. And he nailed it.

The Real Skill Gap Isn’t Technical

When many editors feel stuck, their instinct is to look outward.

“I just need to learn more plugins.”
“I should get better at After Effects.”
“Maybe I need to take a new course on AI tools.”

But 99% of the time, that’s not the real problem.

The real problem is this:
You haven’t practiced the most valuable skill in editing: Telling emotionally engaging stories over time. 

And no plugin can fix that.

Inside The Edit was born out of this exact space — where technical skill is expected, but creative storytelling is rarely taught.

Structure. Arc. Emotional rhythm. Scene evolution. Timing.

Because that’s what separates content from cinema.
That’s what elevates editors from button pushers to artists.

That’s what actually makes you valuable in high-end, long-form editing.

Editing Smarter, Not Harder

The answer isn't to add more layers to an already chaotic schedule. It’s to work strategically.

Focus on the one thing that will truly move your career forward:
Your ability to think like a storyteller. 

Editing isn’t about speed. It’s about decisions. Thousands of them. Every frame. Every cut. Every beat. Every line of dialogue or B Roll shot. And when you're only working in short-form commercial loops, you're never really challenged to think structurally.

You stay on the surface.

And worse—you get used to it.

Breaking the Pattern: Why Competence Isn’t the Same as Creativity

You can be 5 years into an in-house career, highly competent, fast, respected by your team—and still nowhere near where you want to be creatively.

That’s not failure.
That’s the modern editing trap.

So here’s the real question:

What are you doing between 6pm and midnight? 

Because that’s when the real growth can happen.

That’s when you make the leap from content cutter to storyteller.
From short-form to long-form.
From job to craft.
From “good enough” to undeniable.

Final Thought: The Ceiling Isn’t Real—Unless You Let It Be

You don’t need permission to evolve.
You don’t need Netflix to call.
You don’t need to quit your job.

You just need to build the second path—quietly, intelligently, persistently.

Because the ceiling?
It’s not in your company.
It’s not in your client list.
It’s not in your software.

It’s in your choices.

And once you choose to train like a narrative editor, every hour becomes a brick in that wall—the one that leads to the work you were meant to do.

Stay cool, stay safe and stay cutting

Paddy