Murder Your Darlings!

I’ve just received my structural edits for book four. Most writers dread getting structural edits as they often create a lot more work, even though we recognise that wise editors (and mine is particularly perceptive) will help us to produce a better book in the end.

One of the reasons tackling edits is difficult is we have to ‘murder our darlings’. The phrase has been variously attributed to Arthur Quiller-Couch, William Faulkner and Stephen King. Whoever first said it, it’s probably good advice. Sometimes we labour for hours to hone a paragraph or page, slaving over the language, the imagery, the characterisation, only to find it doesn’t really serve the story. Perhaps our motives have been wrong. Our ‘darlings’ have been created as an end in themselves, to showcase our writing skills or impress readers with our wide vocabulary or neat turn of phrase. But if they are self-indulgent, they have to go. We need to be ruthless if we’re to produce the best story possible.

My editor has just asked me to cut some description from the start of my novel. I worked really hard on it, sought advice from culinary experts (there are some cooking scenes) and ran it past my workshop colleagues who said some complimentary things about it. But my editor pointed out that those excess scenes slowed the pace. I thought I was illustrating character through action, as well as setting up a skill my protagonist would develop later in the novel. But in truth I could have done all that a lot more deftly, and not sacrificed much-needed tension along the way. At the beginning of a novel it’s particularly important to engage the reader – if they are not interested they might give up and go on to other books. Once they are more invested in our characters they might forgive a few indulgent passages later on (although even these should be ruthlessly cut) but the start of a book is crucial.

I don’t doubt that my editor is right, and hard though it is, those scenes have to go. So I’m off to sharpen my knife: murder your darlings – it’s good advice!