Back in July you may remember that I told you how, after six years, my novel is almost finished.
Oh my god how wrong you can be.
Let me bring you up to speed on a few things: At the time of writing I had an agent, who, having read the first three chapters, liked the book and wanted to see the rest. Which would have been fine if the rest was just sitting around ready to be sent – but, it wasn’t. Hence the flurry of activity to finish it, and the aforementioned blog post.
A few weeks after typing the words THE END, the agent got back to me and invited me to ‘pop into her offices’ for a chat. There I sat, surrounded by books written by her other clients, whilst she told me that she really liked my manuscript – but she’d like it a whole lot more if I made some changes – namely;
- lose a character,
- add two more chapters,
- bring the word count down to 90,000 words.
The first two items were achieved within a few days, but the third… well I’ve been struggling. As my novel weighed in at 115,000 words I was faced with having to cut 25,000.
This is what I tried first
- made a list of every scene in the book (actually I had this already – a great tip that I picked up many years ago)
- identify any scene that didn’t move the plot on – cut it
- identify any scene in my heart of hearts I didn’t actually like – try and cut it
- identify the wordier scenes – trim them agressively.
Two weeks ago I was down to 103,000 words. Still 13,000 left to cut.
Out of desperation I printed off the entire manuscript (something that my friend Wendy told me to do from the off), sat down with a red pen, and read the whole thing looking for anything that could go by the wayside, and a weeks later I was down to 97,000 words.
I’d be depressed if it wasn’t for the following
- I have an inch thick pile of pages covered in red pen that I’m working through (probably another 1000 words in there)
- I have a list of seven scenes that I could cut (though god help me I really don’t want to)
- the book is actually better.
And that’s the bit that’s really taken me by surprise.
Weeks ago my friend Della Galton told me my book would be better for the level of cutting I was embarking upon – and by golly she was right. Somehow, the very act of taking out the weaker words, scenes, and in a couple of cases whole chapters, has distilled what was left, and made for a much stronger story.
But please God I hope my agent doesn’t want me to lose any more. As of this morning I’ve still got 5,497 words to find.