Cutting is the only edit that matters. Everything else is rearranging.
What gets cut
- Sentences that say what the next sentence already said
- Adjectives that do not change the meaning
- Adverbs that decorate without informing
- Explanations of things the reader already knows
- The phrase “it is important to note that”
Why cutting works
The first draft puts in every thought, every connection, every detail. The
second draft deletes what is not needed. The third draft deletes what is not
essential.
By the fourth draft, nothing is left but what cannot be cut without losing
meaning.
The paragraph that cut itself
“The morning was bright. The sun was shining. It was a beautiful day. She
stood at the window and looked out at the world.”
Cut version: “She stood at the window.”
The reader knows the window faces a world. The reader knows the world is still
there. The reader fills in the bright morning from a single image.
What stays
The sentence that has no other way to say what it says. “The dog barked at the
mail carrier.” You cannot cut “barked” or “mail carrier.” Both are essential.
“The dog barked loudly at the mail carrier”—cut “loudly.” The bark is already
loud.
The cut that hurts
Cutting a sentence you liked, even though it does not earn its place. The
sentence is good but it is not necessary. It is showing off.
A necessary sentence teaches the reader. A showing-off sentence tells the
writer.
Why this matters
Every sentence costs the reader’s attention. A page with fewer sentences is
easier to read. A paragraph with one unnecessary sentence is one sentence too
long.
The professional’s rule
Professional writers cut 30-40% of the first draft. Not by rewriting—by
deleting. The words that remain are twice as strong because there are half as
many of them.
What I learned
Cutting teaches you what is essential and what is not. Everything else is just
arranging words on a page. The writing comes from choosing which words not to
put there.
The sentence you do not write is the sentence that lets the reader breathe.