Words are wonderful things. They taste good, feel good, and in the right combo they can be intoxicating. You may want to kiss them, make out with them, even go to bed with them.

Just don’t marry them!

nomarriage

Because you might have to leave them. In fact, at some point splitting up could be the best thing for the both of you. And look, a break-up doesn’t mean there was anything wrong with the words. They were great words, they were fun to hang out with, and they had a great personality!

I just turned in my line edits to THE MOCKINGBIRDS and my editor and I decided we needed to cut two chapters. Yes, TWO WHOLE CHAPTERS! Just slice them out, like they were tumors or something. They were fun chapters, to be sure. You learned stuff about the characters. And they once had a more important role in the novel. But in the end, they didn’t serve the storyline.

And you know what? I didn’t cry. I didn’t thrash or moan or insist on keeping the words (though I did insist on keeping a scene with the hot guy! Those scenes should always be thrashed and moaned and fought for!).

I’ve been a reporter for 14 years. (Or maybe 13 or 15. I find when you’re over thirty, counting is one of the first skills to go.) And an editor I worked with at TVWeek by the name of Greg Baumann wielded an editorial axe with such precision and glee that I had no choice but to stop mourning the loss of words. Now, I am cold and ruthless too. I don’t flinch when I open the manuscript document with my editor’s suggested changes. I don’t bury my head in my hands and sob over the words I might be losing (unless they involve hot guys, see above.) Instead, I sharpen my own axe and only keep the words that work for the story.

Bye, bye words. It was fun dating you, but I know better than to be married.

Note to reader: Just between you and me and the lampost — no editors now, ya hear? –  tomorrow I will write about how to fight for all the hot guy scenes and win those arguments with an editor!