One of the lines commonly heard at writing seminars, critique groups and workshops is “Sometimes you have to kill your babies.” Often that is met by a collective, “What? I could never do that.” Babies refers not to cuddly little munchkins, but the parts of your manuscript that you love. The words that will make you immortal.

Okay, maybe that’s taking it a little too far, but most published authors know that at some time they had to cut at least one thing they loved. The possibility always exists that it might fit in a different story, book or article, but it definitely didn’t belong where it was.

I was no exception, digging my heels in when it came to cutting prose that made my heart sing. That is until l I attended a workshop called “The Machete Edit.” I listened in shock as the presenter prompted avid listeners to do just what none of us wanted to do. Swing the red pencil just like a machete. Tighten the vise. Unfortunately many authors and writers don’t realize what sound advice this is.

It’s critical to be merciless if it results in a stronger book or article. Cut out the deadwood. Tightly written pieces keep the reader turning the pages, wanting to know what happens next. You may love a particular passage, but will your readers? Even before the readers see it, assuming it does, indeed, make it into print, will the agent, publisher or editor you’re pitching think your writing is compelling? Phrasing that goes nowhere other than the opposite of the direction you want the reader to go, even if beautifully written, is cumbersome and therefore a minus, not a plus, for your work.

I’d attended that workshop when my sister/co-author and I were still in the querying process for our award-winning comical crime caper, “A Corpse in the Soup.” We both thought we’d wrapped up the final edit and were satisfied that it was tight and read well. Being a good student, despite my certainty that I wouldn’t find a thing wrong with it, I reread it one more time.

What a surprise. With what I’d learned about machete editing, all of a sudden superfluous passages jumped out at me, begging to be cut. I spent days going through it without telling my sister what I was doing. Normally we e-mailed manuscripts back and forth showing exactly what had changed by using highlights, strikeouts and text notes.

I’d tentatively suggested doing just one more edit, but Phyllice didn’t want to change one word. After my cuts, I forced her to read the manuscript one more time. I sent a clean copy, not showing where one thing had been changed or cut,  and requested that she indulge me by reading it with an open mind. See, if you don’t miss it, it didn’t have to be there.

She e-mailed back saying, “You were right. This is so much better.” Together we refined it and that is the version that ultimately was picked up and published.

Although services of a reputable editor—one who is well matched to your genre—is like taking a one-on-one class in addition to strengthening the book, here are some preliminary steps that are extremely valuable if for some reason you can’t use an editor:

1. Allow what you consider your final version of the manuscript to get cold. Then reread with an unbiased eye. Make sure it has a clear beginning, middle and end with parts that form arcs to increase the reader’s involvement.
2. In long manuscripts there might be a few culprits. Ask yourself:

• Is this one book or more than one book?
• Are there excessive tangents that are entertaining but really have nothing to do with progressing the story from beginning to tend?

1. Make sure you know what your story is about. Then determine whether you love the characters and think others will love them (or hate the villains.)
2. Most of all, do you have a book or story that is worth the time it will take to go through the manuscript another time or even multiple times to make it saleable?

If you answer yes, understand the importance of checking some of your favorite parts at the door. Tell yourself you’ll keep the parts that work and be willing to abandon the ones that don’t.

Then try to read it like someone who has never seen this story before. Someone who knows nothing about the characters or events. Places that cry for tightening should become immediately apparent. Wield your red pencil machete. When you’ve finished the edit, sorry, but it’s important to allow the manuscript get cold again. Reread once more. If it reads well this time, it’s probably ready for beginning to query or for submitting it to your publisher. If it still doesn’t read tight, you know what you have to do.

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