Delete 785 Words
For the first time I sent a short story to a professional editor before submitting it to a short list of publications during open submission. He did a good job and had nice words about the story’s potential. With two weeks until a major submission deadline I realized that one publication had a 5,000 word limit. My professionally edited story owns a 5,784 word count. Wham. Crisis.
Two days later, after avoiding the problem by writing other new material and re-arranging my submission files, I returned to the story that was supposed to be the core of this fall’s entry plan. So many carefully layered images of Americans in Paris, of Parisian culture, of the fears of a global pandemic were built through multiple revisions. This story was carefully managed. Each sentence holds a place of value. This story might help build readership and reputation, but not at 5,784 words. So how do I start deleting 785 words from a final version?
The opening two words began the sacrificial deletion followed by twenty-five words in the fourth paragraph. Three sentences fell off the second page for thirty-seven words. By the third page, small descriptions disappeared. Does the reader need to know the bed has starched sheets and pillowcases? In search another fifty such words are easily removed.
In this mind frame some sentences now appear extraneous. If a couple is forced to sleep in a church with hundreds of strangers during a cold Paris winter, the reader will probably understand they are in a seriously dangerous situation. In twenty-one pages at least a half-dozen similar structures jump into the trash. Two paragraphs of nice description volunteer eighty-nine words.
When I processed the edits more small changes became obvious. With three pages remaining the word count dropped to 4,980. Continuing to the end, more phrases and sentences disappeared. Like trees cleared of dead branches, the story while losing pages of stuff stood more perfectly formed. This tighter version is a better story, the version that will be submitted regardless of word count requirement. Wham. Wow.
Note to self: when the story feels complete, delete five percent.
Excellent advice! Thanks for posting your process. Very helpful. I will share this with my students, some of whom seem to think that revision is crisis in action. I personally HATE revising, or at least I did when I was at Stonecoast. I think part of the reason was that it was so daunting. I didn’t know how to begin, where to enter and what to look for. The first time I actually deleted pages was very difficult. I have friends who keep all “extras” in a desktop file. I toss mine. If they were that good, I can recreate them. I write long, and now I’m finding that the more I trim away, the clearer the story becomes. I find subtext and themes emerging that I may have been unaware of. But it is still hard to throw away words. I just keep repeating my mantra, “I am the master of my fate, the captain of my ship. And my words are not me. They are . . . words.” We could think of it as distillation, which seems so pretentious a word until we remember that moonshine is distilled. You are making moonshine.
Kudos, Cynthia! And great advice. I find myself chopping out things I initially thought were brilliant even in a one page blog entry. Even when it’s hard to wield the “cut” tool, it’s often the best thing to do.
Can’t wait to see your story!