Kill! Kill! Kill! (Your Darlings)
Or, for the less extreme: "The Art of Letting Go"
You’ve heard the phrase, “kill your darlings,” right? It’s essentially you, as the writer, forcing yourself to remove an element of the story you’re particularly fond of.
Most writers are their own harshest critics, so cutting something they actually like can be a brutal task. Sometimes, it’s removing a favorite line of dialogue that’s so perfect, you can’t believe you wrote it. Other times, it’s cutting an entire scene that’s kept you up at night because it’s going to blow readers’ minds.
[In a weird bit of synchronicity, I cut a line from the previous paragraph that I particularly adored.]
It can be tough, but if it doesn’t serve your story, it’s gotta go.
Okay, great. Get rid of the things that don’t serve the story. But how do I even know what those are?
Like most things, darlings get easier to spot with practice, but here are a few things that might make it easier:
Analyze Objectively: Step back and read your story as if you were the reader. Seeing the story from a fresh perspective helps you identify parts that may not fit. If you’re too close to the story and can’t read it with new eyes, ask yourself logical questions: Does this advance the plot? Does it develop a character? Does it reinforce the theme? Does it fit the style/tone of the rest of the piece? Is this person acting out of character to make this moment work? If you’re honest, you’ll see what needs to be cut or modified.
Seek Feedback: Share your work with trusted peers or editors (psst, I’m a professional editor). Early readers can provide an outside perspective and point out areas that may need trimming. But don’t call their attention to the element you’re unsure of. Instead, let these readers catch what they catch. However, if they don’t point it out, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s in the clear. Ask about it as part of your discussion. Sometimes, they might say, “Now that you mention it, I did have a problem with that...”
Trust Your Instincts: Usually, you already know if something needs to be cut. There’s an inner voice that keeps pulling you back to that scene. It’s that same voice that says, “Yeah, I thought you’d say that,” when an editor or beta reader calls attention to that line you already knew didn’t work. Learn to listen to that voice. Trust your instincts and make those tough decisions.
Deleting any writing that you love can be a challenge, but as the architect of the world you’re building, it’s part of your job. The more you learn to analyze your stories, ask the right questions, and trust your instincts, the easier it’ll be to make the hard choices.
If you know something needs to be cut but you can’t bring yourself to do it, remember, you don’t have to delete it outright. Save it in another document and use it later. No idea, no line of dialogue, no perfectly executed sentence is ever lost to the resourceful writer.



This is so critical. I also think it's important to apply this same perspective to entire projects. Just because you've been dreaming about this story since you were in 6th grade doesn't mean it works... (I'm speaking to myself more than anyone else on that one haha).
Well said! I inadvertently learned this concept from a concept illustrator of all people. It was from an art tutorial series spotlighting the work of Ian McCaig. He would draw these amazing figures, then erase them without pause. SImply citing that it didn't matter how good it looked if it wasn't right. I was stunned, but soon realized this was the reason why this guy was so good at what he did. Nothing but the end product was precious to this guy.
When I shared this story with a fellow author, he remarked it was akin to a philosophy among authors called "murdering your darlings". Slightly different word, but the essence of the message is identical to yours.
I truly believe that failing is the bedrock for improving any skill, and when coupled with Pixar's (Andrew Stanton?) philosophy of, "Be fast to fail." the sky isn't just a limit but another threshold to surpass.
Since then, nothing I make is precious. If something needs to be be changed, I'll set that baby on fire and kick it off a cliff.