5 Random Ways to Trim Your Manuscript
By Kathryn Craft | November 12, 2020 |
photo adapted / Horia Varlan
I have just finished a concision edit on my work-in-progress that I didn’t exactly aim to do.
Mainly, because I’d already done one. After my last full read, I’d finally captured the full emotional thrust of the story I’d always been going for. The cause-and-effect trajectory was all there, the turning points that solder arcs of change for the main characters were there, the stakes were high, the premise was fully explored. Its identity, tight.
But not tight enough. I was over my desired word count.
On one hand, I didn’t let that bother me overmuch. This is a big story, and I wanted to make sure each of its layers had a strong foundation. On the other hand, I was open to even more concision. When you’ve said just enough, and no more, your words are strung together by magnetic energy. This is a worthy goal.
As it turned out, checking boxes on my final self-editing list continued to tighten the manuscript. Here’s how it worked for me, in case it helps you. I’m calling them “random” ways because in each case, my primary goal was different than aiding concision.
[x] Stop just before you want to
Early on in my career, a remarkable agent took time out of her busy schedule to explain to me by phone that I’d written beyond the end of the story. Beyond the climactic plot point, the reader can imagine the rest. But seriously, who wants to stop writing, when you can finally give your characters the happiness and peace of mind they’ve sought? Not me. meaning, I was doing the same thing again in this novel—and in doing so, inadvertently changed the novel’s intent.
A couple of weeks ago, as I was revising toward The End, I identified a place where I could echo some wording I’d used at the break into the second act—something noted by my character then, but not acted upon. I added the words again, at a place where she was acting on them—and right away, I heard four additional words, loud and clear. I typed them in and wow, there it was—that satisfying click that told me the story question had been answered. By that point, it had been long-established what she wanted, and it’s clear what she’s heading toward, and guess what? The reader really can imagine the rest. Over 2K words, gone.
Only 5,500 to go, lol.
[x] Renumber chapters
My next task was to update chapter numbers, since once I get into a heavy developmental edit, I never bother to do so. I also noted the length. My chapters were a little longer this time, on average 10-13 pages. Shorter, punchier chapters were 8. So when one came up 5, that was worth a second look. Was it even punchier? Or, perhaps, not necessary at all?
If a reader can understand the story without one of its scenes, it isn’t needed. This is the sort of determination you can miss when reading straight through, seduced by prose you love, characters who have won your heart, and who are ensconced in a situation that grips you. If your scenes are following a cause-and-effect chain, you’ll simply accept that scene as “this is what she did next.” The question is, whether or not the reader needs to watch her.
This leftover chapter fragment, once I boiled it down, had four paragraphs of crucial material. I split them up and reallocated them. Another 1.2K words deleted.
Then I lingered with each chapter opening, analyzing scene arcs to make sure the breaks came in the right places. adding line breaks resulted in a few inane openings, such as a meal scene that was fun and revealed character, but to which my protagonist brought no clear goal. I ditched them and focused in on reader seduction (raising a question at the opening of each chapter that draws a reader in) and reader retention (raising a question at the end of the chapter so they can’t stop reading there). More active language in these locations trimmed additional fat. Even a few words excised here and there add up over the course of a novel, and each time I trimmed fat, I sharpened intent.
[x] Scan for first words of paragraphs
I always take one scroll through and look to make sure paragraphs begin with a healthy variety of words. I was writing in first person, so this also included the technique that Chuck Palahniuk, in his book Consider This (reviewed by Keith Cronin here), calls “Bury the I.” It could also be called “Bury your Protagonist’s Name,” for that matter—even in third person, you don’t want each paragraph to read “Gwynne did this” and “Gwynne thought that”—but it is true that “I’s” can come across as me-me-me.
This helped me identify unneeded point-of-view filters, like “I saw, noticed, realized, thought, knew,” etc. In an established point of view, “I knew that Hattie didn’t like tuna fish” is the same as “Hattie didn’t like tuna fish.” “I knew” overuse was on my mind after reviewing a recent client’s manuscript and hadn’t been aware of my own penchant, but when I searched for the phrase, I found many candidates for dumping.
Bonus: questioning the opening of a sentence often caused me to review the entire paragraph, which I could do more objectively out of context. This helped me strike additional unneeded sentences.
[x] Address word overuse
My overused words and phrases change with each premise. This project, set in an ice storm, featured a lot of devastating devastation, along with popping and snapping and cracking. Using Word’s “Find” function helped me assess overused terms, which sometimes led to the removal of fully reiterated concepts.
[x] Do a spell check
This was my final step in tidying up—which provided yet one more way to flip through the novel in a random way, allowing me to stop when I saw something awry.
All of these measures allowed me to skim across the surface of my story, over and over, faster and faster, helping me see the big picture and how it was implemented. It also helped me locate a half dozen different “Chekhov’s guns”—details I’d hung on the wall of story but never made good on. If you argued the reader never would have noticed them missing, I’d agree—but it’s so fun for the reader who catches that Mom taught her daughter something at one point early on, and then later in the novel, witnesses that daughter wielding that knowledge in front of Mom. “Her little girl is growing up,” your reader will think—and you won’t have had to say it.
Carrying through these measures added a week of very long days to my schedule. But in the end, I was able to trim 7,500 words, and since I found a plot thread I’d never addressed, I had room to add a short scene, bringing the total to the 7K I had hoped to trim.
Let me put that in perspective: I cut some 25 manuscript pages without specifically intending to do so.
Once your story structures are sound, concision will impact cohesion, making your story more memorable.
I hope—it went out to my agent today. Wish me luck!
What methods have you stumbled across that help you cut unneeded word count from your novel? Please share so we can make a nice long list!
[coffee]
Kathryn Craft (she/her) is the author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy. Her forthcoming book, Crafting Story Movement: Techniques to Engage Readers and Drive Your Novel Forward, draws from decades of experience as both a story consultant and a movement specialist/dance critic. Learn more on Kathryn’s website.
That’s really putting in the hours! But don’t you worry that you might be editing the heart or soul out of the book, diluting the voice or altering the tone? There’s a lot to be said for the first, unchained spontaneous outpourings, driven by a passionate idea.
Hi JJ, thanks for stopping by! No, I am way beyond the spontaneous outpourings stage with this project. Besides, our readers shouldn’t have to wade through our verbiage to find the story—it’s our job to deliver it.
From among the big batch of words that served as the medium (the outpouring, I guess you could say), I have now carved a story that supports the plot pressures, inner character growth, and premise I wanted to explore. The passion is still there—in fact, it has grown—but the added concision has honed its focus so the story will be more memorable.
And you need not worry about paucity here—the novel still clocks in at just over 100,000 words.
I fear my last comment won’t show as a reply, so check below for more. But I forgot to address one thing here: instead of diluting the voice, improved concision concentrates it—in all the right places.
That’s really putting in the hours! But don’t you worry that you might be editing the heart or soul out of the book, diluting the voice or altering the tone? There’s a lot to be said for the first, unchained spontaneous outpourings, driven by a passionate idea.
[reposted with the correct email address]
Hi JJ, thanks for stopping in! No, I am well beyond the initial spontaneous outpourings stage with this novel. I would never ask a reader to wade through my bloated verbiage in search of the story—it’s my job to make sure the plot applies the necessary pressure to result in character change, and to ensure that change happens in an identifiable way and with regard to a premise of my choosing. The more concise I can make that story, the more memorable it will be.
And you need not worry about paucity—the novel still clocks in just over 100,000 words!
That’s really interesting, Kathryn! I can’t wait to read it. Crossing fingers for a speedy process. For your sake and mine. :)
What a nice thing to say. Thanks, Kathleen!
How can I tell you how much I love this essay, Kathryn! All the more so, because I have been rooting for Gwynne ever since I “met” her. but mostly because of all the clear, actionable advice you offer so generously. One of the points that struck home for me is the one about unnecessary scenes—times when we need to know THAT something happened, but might not need to WATCH it happening. In other words, two or three sentences of exposition might do just fine. Another item on the list, for me personally, is the tendency to say the same thing twice—because I think that will make the reader see how important or poignant it is, or because I (as the writer) can think of two beautiful ways to express something. I need to pick one and move on! Anyway, thank you for another wonderfully smart, precise, and usable piece :-)
Barbara, this is so nice, thank you for sharing the ways you connect with the post. And Gwynne thanks you for rooting for her!
To your last point, I forgot to mention one thing in the above: for these final long weeks of effort, I renamed the manuscript RUTHLESS! It is our job to figure out the most appropriate way to express a thought—not for all time, but for this moment in this novel—and the reader will have no clue that the one you discarded was ever there. They will only thank you for the illumination from the one that is there. No need to muddy the waters with dueling metaphors, right?
Thank You for sharing these tips. I think they’ll be handy when I hit the editing stage.
Thanks for bookmarking, James!
What a great “sampler platter” of places to take a closer eye to your story. Enjoyed this post, Kathryn.
Thanks Tiffany! A random sampler, for sure!
Great list Kathryn. Timely too. I have exactly a week to finish the content edit on my 2021 historical novel, which added 1000s of words to an already overlong manuscript. I’m down to the cutting wire now, long days, long hours. At this point I have a method. Edit each chapter in print, then key in those changes (cutting more as I do) in Word, then a final read through aloud, on screen, to smooth and cut even more. I set myself a 5% word cut goal for the oldest (and already most edited) chapters and 10% for the newly added material. Often I blow past that word cut goal. Yay me! Now back to work.
A sound plan, Lori! The end game always takes longer than you think, right? Good luck!
If you still need to make further cuts at the end, I suggest one of these random ways of flipping through the ms. You will see some things anew, guaranteed.
WOW! What a lot of solid, actionable info here! I’ve copied it to file away for future use. THANKS!
Glad you found more resources here, Mary! Thanks for stopping in!
“When you’ve said just enough, and no more, your words are strung together by magnetic energy.” How I love this sentence!! I peeled 10,000 words off a manuscript over the summer and gave it back to a Beta reader who’d already seen it. Her response was gratifying. She said that the story felt more intense and immediate. I’ve since gone back over it since and discovered my go-to word (then) along with pockets of flab and repetition. Calling it done for now. And I’m printing this post out for next time. Thank you, Kathryn.
Way to go, Susan! Magnetism for the win! For holding the words together, yes, but also for drawing the reader in.
Echoing the comments — except I almost did not read this because I am not yet at the “trimming” stage. Still some miles to go in rewriting. So glad I did read this, because as you say, they are about far more than trimming — they are how to make the novel sing! I look forward to reading the novel, and your previous ones.
Hi Laura, thanks for the reminder that titling matters, lol! Glad you gave it a second look. For what it’s worth, I tend to write long to make sure the whole story is there, and then whittle it down.
One of the things I like about Autocrit is that it will count for me, all kinds of things, and in the process of deciding whether I really meant to use ‘really’ six times, some get rewritten, some changed – and some deleted!
Another thing that has stood in good stead is that almost the last thing I do is to choose the first and last lines in a scene – after all the other material is gathered. That keeps the initial and final meandering down, because I’m looking for striking, or pithy, or somehow necessary before I put the scene into words.
I write long; I have to be looking for places to cut from the beginning.
Yes, love the first and last line approach, Alicia. In one of the earliest revision workshops I ever took, romance author Susan Meier said that on a day when you wake up feeling particularly creative, rewrite all your chapter openings and endings.
This is an incredibly helpful post, and so timely for me. I’m working with a publisher on my debut novel and my brief is to cut, cut, cut. It began at 108,000 words—it’s a BIG story but I understand that’s just too long for a debut. We’re aiming at 85,000. I’m down to 96,000—still a way to go, so any advice at this point is gold to me. Many, many thanks.
Congrats on your debut, Al! Bonus tip: look for scenes with overlapping intent. In my debut I had two scenes with dinners in them in which new characters learned of the same problem. I combined them, everyone learned at once, and at the same time one scene became more interesting and complex with higher stakes, another was cut. Best wishes to you!
Thank you Kathryn for the tips. My manuscript is at the copy editors now but I keep thinking there’s more to do. Especially with one short chapter that may not add anything significant to the story. I just like the anecdotes. Wasn’t it Stephen King who said sometimes you had to kill your darlings?
Hi Diana, congrats on hitting the copy editing stage! There will always be more to do, but there’s something to be said for knowing when to let go as well. Interesting word you use, though, “anecdotes”—I always hold them suspect until they have proven that they support story movement instead of stall it.
And i think darlings is a whole different topic. Taking out unneeded POV filters or reiterative text isn’t the same thing as removing precious language. I had no trouble cutting any of the passages these techniques helped me identify, because the randomness of the way these searches popped me across the surface of the novel made me see them in a way that reading straight through didn’t allow. I hope that makes sense!
Here’s a technique I’ve recently discovered to help the editing process. Enable the ‘read aloud’ feature as it’s called in Word, and listen as the computer reads back highlighted sections. Listen for missing words, wrong words, clunky sentenceS, stilted dialogue and so on.
It’s a technique that works better than reading aloud yourself, I find. The computer reads only what’s on the page and doesn’t embellish bad writing with a dramatic voice. I wish I’d discovered this technique years ago.
Roberta
Thanks Roberta! I’m sure some of our readers will find this tip helpful.