Killing Your Darlings: What to Cut from Your Story
Introduction: Why Is It So Hard to Let Go of Your Writing?
Honestly, every writer has had moments when they reach a sentence and think, "I can't cut this—I wrote it too well." And that very sentence, sometimes years later, brings the story crashing down. The term "kill your darlings" was coined by the English critic and author Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch in his book On the Art of Writing; but William Faulkner made it famous when he said: "In writing, you must learn to kill; kill all your darlings."
The "darlings" here are not the things we genuinely love; they are the things we are attached to that don't serve the story. Cutting is part of the story revision process, not a failure of writing. In fact, rewriting without cutting is merely decorating.
Why Is Cutting Harder Than Writing?
When we write a sentence, part of our energy, time, and thought goes into it. Cutting it feels like denying that effort. Stephen King says in On Writing that his second-draft formula is: "First draft minus ten percent." That ten percent is precisely the darlings that must be sacrificed.
The main problem is that we think cutting weakens the text. But in practice, what remains becomes stronger, because the reader's attention is not scattered. A story is like sculpture; what is valuable is the stone that remains, not the chips we discard.
What Should We Cut from a Story?
Cutting has no single rule; but a clear categorization of problematic "darlings" can be offered:
- Redundant scenes: If two scenes serve the same function, one must go. Even if both are beautifully written.
- Superfluous characters: A character who exists only to explain things can be merged into the role of the narrator or an existing character.
- Explanatory sentences: Sentences that restate what we have already shown. "Show, don't tell" is not just a slogan; it is a criterion for cutting.
- Misplaced backstory: Flashbacks that arrive in the middle of a climactic scene and break the tension.
- Repetition of words and sentence structure: If "said" or "looked" appears three times in one paragraph, the other two are superfluous.
- Explanatory endings: A sentence that, after a scene ends, interprets its meaning for the reader.
Hemingway in The Old Man and the Sea cut long sections about fishing many times; not because they were wrong, but because they threw the story off its rhythm. The same logic appears in A Farewell to Arms; he wrote and cut numerous endings until he arrived at that famous one.
How Do We Know What Is a "Darling" Rather Than "Essential"?
One simple way is to ask: If we cut this section, what is lost? If the answer is "nothing, except its own beauty," then it is cuttable. But if cutting it breaks the story's logic, the character's motivation, or the scene's tension, it must stay.
"If you cut a sentence and the text still worked, that sentence was superfluous." — This sentence can be considered a practical criterion for cutting, even if its exact author is unclear.
Another way is temporal distance. Read text you wrote yesterday with an editor's eye today. When the writer separates from the text, the darlings no longer seem quite so dear.
Diagnostic Table: Keep or Cut?
| Indicator | Keep | Cut |
|---|---|---|
| Scene function | Advances the story | Only builds atmosphere without movement |
| Character | Creates change | Only explains |
| Sentence | Adds new meaning | Repeats a previous concept |
| Flashback | Clarifies motivation | Delays the tension |
| Scene ending | Leaves the reader with a question | Explains everything |
Practical Methods for Killing Your Darlings
Cutting requires practice. A few techniques that are effective in story revision:
- The "cut and reread" method: Cut a paragraph, read the text. If nothing feels off, finalize the cut.
- The ten percent method: Remove ten percent of the words from each chapter. This exercise trains the eye to see what is superfluous.
- Reading aloud: Places where you pause or grow tired are usually places to cut.
- Listing your darlings: Before final revision, write a list of the sections you are attached to, then examine them one by one.
- Entrusting to a ruthless reader: Someone who loves the story but avoids flattery can see hidden darlings better than you can.
Raymond Carver in his revisions sometimes shortened stories by half. Gordon Lish, editor of The New Yorker, played a major role in editing Carver's stories; though today debates continue about the extent of his intervention, one thing is clear: the shorter versions had greater impact.
Conclusion: Cutting Is Another Form of Writing
Killing your darlings is a painful but necessary stage in story revision. Without it, the text becomes full of sections we are proud of but that weary the reader. Cutting is a sign of the writer's maturity, not cruelty to oneself.
So read the text once more; the sentence you love most may be the very one that must go. And that is precisely where the story comes to life.
