Kill Your Darlings

During my big college scholarship interview, I was asked what (who) I liked to read. My answer? An honest one: Stephen King. I had fallen for his short story and novella collections and moved on to The Stand (still my favorite Stephen King novel, tied with It) and the first book of the Gunslinger series. I credit my success (I won the scholarship) to my impassioned answer. So I trust the guy.

In his book, On Writing, King says to “kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings."

Designed by Chris Ritter

The phrase "kill your darlings" is generally attributed either to Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch or William Faulkner. It has been in the news recently, as it is the title of Harry Potter's next film. Erm, I mean Daniel Radcliffe's next film, based on the lives of the beat poets, due out in October.

In any case, it is good advice. Way back in 2007 or so, Sandra Scofield recommended the same drastic chopping to my summer writing class at the University of Iowa. What she said was, "Oh, you have a full manuscript? I suggest you throw it all away. Start over."

Harsh.

At the time, I did not have a manuscript to delete. But I scoffed at the idea that some day, when I did have words on paper, I would willingly hit the backspace key or send the file to the trash.

My mind has changed on this matter.

In the past three weeks, I have copy edited (again) and proofread volume 3 of Super Power of the Day (both print and digital versions), which means I've read it through several times, quickly. It turns out that when I "catch" on a line or phrase that I want to smooth over, it's usually in a sentence or section I've already revised and just can't get right. When this happens, I have found it most productive to simply cut the sentence. After all, my revising mantra is"simplify."

So the past few weeks have been replete with the killings of darlings. The voice at the back of my head saying "But I love that line!" has been comforted, and then hushed. The red pen has ruled the day.

Thanks, Uncle Steve.