Desperately Seeking Darlings
By Kim Bullock | January 22, 2016 |
Flickr Creative Commons: Jay Walt
Back in late October, Liz Michalski wrote a post about how her portly manuscript lost an impressive 52,000 words. As someone who writes long and cuts later, I related well to her obsession with chopping adverbs, unnecessary adjectives, and dialogue tags. I ran that gauntlet myself when the last draft of my manuscript clocked in at 115,000 words.
The length wasn’t terrible, but I feared it might be beyond the comfort zone for many agents seeking debut historical fiction. I hoped to avoid unnecessary auto-rejects. This meant not only eliminating extra words but murdering entire scenes; a quick read-through failed to yield obvious victims.
Sure, there were a few tangents that didn’t propel the plot forward much, but those were the family stories that had so enthralled me as a child, the ones that inspired me to write the novel in the first place. I couldn’t possibly remove those! Besides, what reader wouldn’t laugh at the image of my male protagonist, as a teenager in the 1870s, streaking through a sea of picnicking Mennonites in an attempt to escape the town constable? The reason he was being chased, and in the nude no less, is a damn funny story. So is his failed attempt to fly, but I digress…
A few months prior to completing my manuscript, I attended Donald Maass’ 21st Century Fiction workshop. Throughout the talk, he peppered his audience with questions they might ask themselves while composing. The goal was to ensure that each scene both moved the story forward and contained enough tension to keep readers engaged. I wrote many questions down, intending to compile them for use in pre-plotting my next novel.
Faced with a fat manuscript and out of ideas, I revisited my workshop notes and had an epiphany. The questions, though originally posed to help writers craft compelling scenes, could be adapted to gauge if existing scenes worked in the context of the whole novel or should be banished to the morgue file. If the experiment proved all scenes to be essential, the book would have to remain longish. If not, I’d know where to cut.
I pared the (many) questions down to the most essential and dug in.
I won’t lie. The exercise was torture and took weeks, but it shined an incriminating spotlight on most of my ‘darlings’ as well as a few unexpected scenes. With proof that what I’d once considered essential served no literary purpose, I could hack away without remorse.
For those whose manuscripts must lose significant word count, here’s the process that saved my sanity:
Write a scene by scene synopsis
If you only write one scene per chapter, do it by chapter. If not, do this for every scene, no matter how short.
Answer the following questions for each scene
- Which characters are involved? Which POV is it in?
- What does the POV character want at the beginning?
- Does he/she get it?
- What are the consequences either way?
- What are the POV character’s emotions at the beginning of the scene? (Name all of them, not just the most obvious.)
- What is the scene’s turning point?
- What are the POV character’s emotions at the end?
- What does the POV character want at the end?
What’s in it for you?
- If you are unable to identify what that the main character wants and some way that the scene contributes toward either reaching her goal or being thwarted in some way, earmark it for potential annihilation. If it can be tweaked to fit neatly into the main arc of the story, salvage it. If not, it goes.
- If there is no turning point, no change in a character’s circumstances, desires, or emotions, the scene is static. No matter how writerly, even gorgeous, the prose, make something happen or take it out.
- If there is no emotion in the scene, there will be none in the reader. Add it or consider wielding your pruning shears.
- If the emotions/goals/desires at the end of one scene don’t somehow lead into what happens in the next scene, that transition needs work.
If you know deep down what the exercise will reveal, expect this process to be especially hard. I spent the better part of a day trying to cheat the system in order to keep one particularly precious darling alive. It’s hard to argue with blank spaces and question marks. Eventually, I moved it to a separate “halfway-house” file instead of the morgue. Do whatever helps you sleep at night. The choice is always up to you.
Have you ever trimmed sizable chunks from a manuscript? How did you determine what needed to go?
[coffee]
Kim (she/her) has an M.A. in English from Iowa State University. She writes mainly historical fiction, though has also contributed non-fiction articles to historical and Arts and Crafts publications in both the United States and Canada. She has just finished The Oak Lovers, a novel based on the rather colorful life of her great-grandfather, landscape painter Carl Ahrens.
“Half-way house,” I love it, Kim. I went through the same thing with my recent novel Greylock. The story takes place on Mt. Greylock in Massachusetts, and I orignally had a good deal of history about the mountain. Interesting stuff about Melville and Thoreau and Hawthorne on the mountain that I thought was captivating. But this history had nothing to do with the storyline or characters at all. It wasn’t until the whole story was drafted out that I realized this. Every time I reread the historical parts, I felt pulled away. And if I felt pulled away, then the readers will too. I didn’t go through the questions you propose, but sometimes when you see the big picture of the novel, you can see the black holes. I began casting out chunks. And after, I was so unsettled with myself but knew it was right for the book. Now I’m thinking that maybe I can use that historical material for a blog or promotion for the book. So, your “half-way house” is a good mental place for the black holes to go rather than being cast out. Excellent post today.
I have probably written a million words to get down to this 100K or so, between all the drafts. I know what you mean about getting lost in the history of it all. My novel is based on the lives of real people, ancestors at that, and so there is SO MUCH information at hand. It’s easy to start putting it all in just because I have it, especially if the stories are amusing. It’s a hard lesson later to realize that no one is going to care about any of it as much as you do.
Congratulations for being able to make some cuts. Yes, it is very unsettling!
Take a look at Don’s comment below because that could apply to you as well, I think. Keep those half-way house snippets for later use.
Oh yeah, Don always has good advice. I copied out the questions you posted, Kim and have them in my writing folder now.
Thanks so much for the list of questions. I have the opposite problem — I’m going to be coming in at around 52,000 words — so I hope that the questions will give me some insight into things that would add depth to the story.
Hi Carmel,
Yes, I imagine these could also be used to add depth. I did find a few scenes that lacked these elements, but they could easily be made to have them. Those I salvaged and reworked. Good luck on your manuscript.
K
With my background in journalism and writing for children, I don’t have a problem writing tight – but I do sometimes have a problem getting enough words if I have to meet a standard length. I blogged about that, and how I’ve addressed the problem, here:
https://chriseboch.blogspot.com/2012/06/turning-idea-into-story-making-muscular.html
I also outline my novels after I’ve written them, and ask questions to make sure I have everything I need, and nothing I don’t. My questions are available as a free download on my website:
https://www.chriseboch.com/newsletter.htm (Scroll down the left hand side and click on “plot outline exercise.”)
Some are similar to the ones here, and some are different. People might also like to use the Word document I have and add to it from these or their own ideas.
Haven’t we all been through that wringer a time or two? When I ‘finished’ The English General, it had a word count of 145,000+ words. My editor suggested it was overblown. So I did the adverb/adjective thing, and then the ‘does this scene pull the story forward’ thing, and finally reset the opening (by deleting the first two chapters of setting). Having eliminated 30,000+ words, I had edited out a stronger novel at 114,000+ words. Still long, but readers of historicals don’t seem to mind length so long as the story draws us in and moves.
Hi Lyn,
Yes, I’ve found that beginnings (especially in early drafts) are often prime places to cut. 114,000K isn’t detrimental for a historical, certainly, and I would have left mine longish had every scene passed the test. Alas, they did not…
30,000 words is amazing. Great job!
K
Wonderful post, Kim, and very timely for me! I’ve written myself into a corner, but I’m guessing if I do this exercise it will get me going again. Sometimes stepping back to view the whole picture, gives you a better idea of what’s really going on.
Hi Peggy,
It may be just what you need. Often when I get stuck, something is not working. Be prepared for a long couple of weeks, but it could be well worth it for you. Good luck!
K
Awesome post, Kim. Your objective eye on your scenes is a shining example. That’s a pro at work.
I have a further suggestion for your poor dead darlings, though. Turn them into spin-off short stories. Post them on your website as giveaway reading for fans, or turn them into stand alone e-books.
You know how music groups release LP’s and singles between albums? Like that. Publishers love this strategy too. It feeds fans in the year or two between books.
But I must know…did the streaking scene make the cut? So memorable.
Don,
Yes, the streaking scene remained, though it was moved. I will also have to find a way to keep one involving a drinking contest and Calamity Jane.
This was a tough one. A hazard of writing a story based on real people, especially if those people were both famous (in their day) and relations, is that there are so MANY stories. Larger-than-life, hilarious stories. I love your idea about turning them into spin off material. Between those, all the candid photographs, and images of artwork by both protagonists, I’d have a goldmine to work with.
And thank YOU again, both for inspiring the regular idea, and for this new one. Looks like it was popular with a few people on here!
K
I concur with Don on this. I wrote a novella this year composed largely of cast-off darlings from a previous novel. Darlings may indeed need to go, but a last-minute reprieve may spare them the chair.
That said, the guidelines you identify are critical. And sometimes, if a scene you love is lacking, you can make it work by seeing what’s missing and discovering how to create the desire and emotion it currently needs.
Wonderful post, Kim!
Hi David,
I did save a few scenes with some tweaks – they had not included ‘darlings’ but they also didn’t have any real goal and seemed a bit episodic in the end.
I love Don’s suggestion. Thankfully I have saved most things I’ve cut from the last few drafts!
K
I think we have all been there. My chic-lit book, Confessions of the Sausage Queen weighed in at 95k, long for the genre and for me (I tend to write short). I was getting beta comments like ‘it’s really funny, but I lost interest after a while.’ Lost interest is the death of a book. Problem was, I couldn’t figure out how to fix it. It was a first person narrative, and the mc, Mandy, is a small town girl and a bit of a gossip. Part of the fun was that she knew everybody’s deal in this town. She goes on to tell on these side tales about different people that didn’t advance the plot, exactly, but did give a lot of flavor to the narrative. Since the book was very much about this little town, I liked the meandering Mandy did.
I sent it to my editor anyway, telling her I know there’s something wrong, but maybe it was fixable. She hit on it–there were places, quite a few, where I was letting Mandy mull over her situation. I was letting her ruminate all over the place–and it was slowing the story to a halt. I got rid of the rumination and cut the ‘off topic’ stories down to sizable bits. The manuscript went from 95k to 87k and was a much better read as a result.
Hi Ute,
I have been guilty in the past of letting characters mull over things to the point of sounding whiny. Thankfully, I have some great beta readers who call me on it, so I can fix that sort of thing before submission time!
Congratulations on successfully cutting your manuscript down to size!
K
Congrats, Kim on the novel and thank you for the list, it’s a handy one to have. I’m going to make a copy of it, as a checkpoint as I rework my new WIP.
As for killing darlings ::sob:: sometimes I feel like an editorial Dexter. I like Dons idea of using some of them for short stories.
Bernadette,
An editorial Dexter! I love that! Yes, it can be so hard to swing that ax.
The process really worked wonders. I would not have had the fortitude to make some of these cuts if I didn’t have visual proof that the scenes weren’t working.
Good luck with your revisions!
K
This is a really great way to go about big cuts! And good on you for that level of dedication. I love Don’s idea, above, too, about saving those cut scenes as bonus material. Keeping that idea in mind *while* we’re cutting would be a great way to ease the pain. “Saved for something else” is a lot easier to swallow than “gone forever.”
Hi Annie,
This is a story I knew I’d write since I was eight, so it is not one I could easily give up on.
I agree completely that “saved for something else” has a nice ring to it.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting!
K
I have a file titled “Orphans of the Page”. As I started on this road to a written story, it didn’t take long to realize that I wouldn’t (couldn’t) kill my darlings, so I made them orphans, just waiting for a home.
At the first of the year, I decided to take a month-long break from my WIP. Briefly, I’m writing stories for my grandchildren (storytelling has been a big part of my relationship with them), each featuring one of them as the mc. With a rough sketch and working title for each story, I began with the story for my nine year-old granddaughter. I created a detailed outline and started writing. Easy, right?
At 15,000 + words, I’ve barely written the first quarter of the story. I was thinking the entire story would be about 20,000-25,000 words. Where did all these words come from? It reached the point where it felt like the more I worked on it, the worse it got. But, instead of trashing it and starting over, I decided to take a break from it. Now, thanks to your questions, I’ll have more than just a (hopefully) fresher perspective on Feb.1, but a more objective way to judge the story-value of those 15,000 words. Thanks!
Hi CK,
I love “Orphans of the Page”!
A break is sometimes exactly what is needed. I know I get stuck when something isn’t working, and if I try to push through, I just end up hating everything. My sympathies!
I also love that you are writing stories for your grandchildren. They will treasure those when they grow up and may end up passing them down to their children. I have about twelve short stories that my grandmother wrote for my dad and his sisters. They had no money for books and so she made up stories on her own. They are a bit dated now, but quite clever and well done. I read them to my kids when they were small and will give them copies when they have kids.
Thank you so much for your comment!
K
Kim,
I love the idea that these stories might be read by future generations of my family! That possibility hadn’t occurred to me–now the pressure is really on. And, if that is to be the fate of these stories, I can only hope that my great-grandchildren will also someday find them “quite clever and well done”, (if dated).
Thank you for sharing this!
ck
I went the other way; I used a similar list, derived from The Fire in Fiction (also Maass) to construct every scene – all those questions had to be answered before a word was allowed in.
Thousands of words extra per scene were created during the writing process – alternate ways of doing everything, especially dialogue, always exist – and pared down to only that which would achieve the purpose of the scene in the novel.
There wasn’t much left to cut at the end. Pride’s Children is still long, but every bit in it had to fight its way in, so whole-book edits only made sure my little faults such as using the same word were fairly easy to correct. I used a whole bolt of cloth to make one T-shirt. That’s how you learn.
I am in awe of people who tackle that kind of tightening at the book level – my writing partner cut 30K+ words from a 120K+ word thriller.
For me, it is best they not make it past the audition.
I hope you get a lot of usable short stories from the trimmings.
Hi Alicia,
Oh, yes, this could certainly be used in the reverse way as well. There are a couple of scenes that I will actually have to add to.
For my next novel, I will certainly do more work ahead of time, including this exercise, to save me from writing over a million words just to get 100K or so I will keep. That was not the best use of my time or energy!
Thanks for stopping by!
K
It might not have been the best possible use of your time and energy, but perhaps it was NECESSARY.
Learning is not smooth and simple; it is jagged and complex and bends back on itself.
Yes, it probably was necessary in this case. I’ve pounded out drafts of other novels in just a few months. This was a book I’ve known I would write since I was eight. That’s a bit more pressure!
My first novel clocked in at 135,000 words, so I can feel your pain! I got it back to under 100,000, then submitted it to a freelance editor who came back with great advice. But much of what she recommended involved fleshing out certain characters. Alas, there was no way to add without subtracting! It was easiest for me to eliminate characters who contributed no more than “housekeeping” (though I’m keeping the housekeeper!). Why this process involves more than hitting the delete key, I described in a recent blog post about “my Jake Epping moment”: vweisfeld.com/?p=5170. Loved your post, Kim
Hi Vicki,
When I was writing the first draft of this novel, I realized about halfway through that I would end up hitting 140K easily, and had to stop and reassess right then!
Cutting 35,000 words is impressive, and then to have to do that all over again after the revision. Ugh! Did you save any of what you cut in a separate file?
K
Kim,
Oh, I loved reading this and pictured you as Rambo or some other mercenary, hacking away at the brush and tossing grenades at the enemy. Great tips! I remember them from the conference, and will put them to use in my own editing process.
I’m glad the streaking scene made the cut. As I read, I was like, “Oh, no! That sounds like a hilarious scene.” Thanks for the article. :)
Mike,
I’m laughing so hard right now, Mike. That image is a riot, especially since you know me in person. (For those who don’t, think short, quiet and intuitive. I’m also blind in one eye, so hitting any sort of target is pretty much out of the question.)
Oh, yes, the streaking story had to stay. It’s just too good to leave out, especially because it is true and ultimately says a lot about the character. He was a bit of a rebel, but so is my main protagonist. They are well matched.
Great practical article. It came, amazingly enough, just as I finished chapter 3 of Donald Maass’s The Fire in Fiction, which is all about writing “scenes that can’t be cut.” It is extremely helpful and has already helped me focus a particularly troublesome “summary” scene in the early-middle of my manuscript. Thank you, Ms. Bullock and Mr. Maass, for your help.
Hi Christy,
Don’s books are always helpful, and I highly recommend a workshop, if you ever have the chance to attend one. I credit him fully for the questions themselves. How I chose to use them was different from the original intent. A lot of his suggestions can be custom tailored, so to speak.
Thank you for stopping by!
K
Does anyone agree with me that some of the “digressions” that don’t necessarily move the plot along can add some spice to the story?
Of course they can! But there’s also a difference between a digression that pulls its weight (even if it’s not moving the plot — it could be setting up something that happens later, or illustrating some important facet of a character) and a digression that just stops everything for a scene or chapter without rewarding the reader in a story-serving way. You can add spice without adding fat.
Well said, James. Exactly! There are some things I was able to let live after I tweaked a bit.
What a great post, Kim, and I admire how you adapted a helpful lesson to a relevant arena. Will save this for when I’m in a space where it’s required.
Love this! I had to cut 30k (about 30%) of my novel during edits with my literary agent. It was brutal, too, but I was actually encouraged by the amount I could scrape off just by killing crutch words and making sure the chapter started/ended at the right moments. My manuscript is so much stronger for the work, even though it was difficult!