Editing Like A Villian

Oh look, another darling to kill. By Megan Mossgrove

It’s amazing how much of editing is really just carving away marble until the polished statue remains. Goodbye, petering subplot. Maybe next time, random story tangent. Those out-of-character moments? Pardon me for saying “yeet.”

Sometimes, it feels like Drafting-Megan and Editing-Megan are rivals, and we are! After months of discovery writing, there comes a time when future-you must unearth the story from those beginning drafts. It’s hard. It’s painful. I can almost hear drafting-me weep as I “Ctrl + A” and Backspace—but every good story has a worthy antagonist.

So, edit like a villain.

Demand Obedience from Your Story Structure

Any subplot that falls off in the middle of the story needs to shape up or be surgically removed. Any stagnant scenes that don’t grow the main character’s inner or outer world need to lock in, or swim with the fishes. If the ending comes too early or the beginning stays too late, it’s time to restructure the entire thing. Harsh? I don’t think so.

“But what if the rest of the story is so fast paced, there’s no way to weave in that subplot from the beginning that I love?”

Then you risk having unsatisfied readers, or a book that feels like two different books smooshed together.

“What if I want to keep this scene, but I don’t know how to make it stronger?”

Remember, a strong story is all about goals, conflicts, and motivations. If there’s a weak scene, chances are its low on two of the three, or even all three. How can you feather these in? What cause and effect led the characters here, and what cause and effect will get them out of the scene?

“What if moving my true climax closer to the end of the book means I have to come up with another 25k words for the middle?”

Oop. I’ve got bad news! Some stories are meant to be shorter. If you’re struggling to find words, first make sure you’ve covered goal, conflict, and motivation mentioned above. Make sure each of your POV characters has introspection/thoughts/reactions about what’s going on around them. Decide how immersive you’d like to be with your setting (sensory details, active setting). Make sure you aren’t summarizing important moments that should be entire scenes. (People becoming friends, people falling in love, moments that are meant to foreshadow.) If all those boxes are checked, consider adding a subplot, or see if there’s a missing story “beat” that is worth exploring.

Burning the Fluff

Villains love cuddles. Low key. Villains don’t mind a bit of smoochy kissy or declarations of love or sweet, tender moments. That’s not the kind of fluff editor-villains loves to burn. The fluff I’m talking about bogs down your sentences and bloats your chapters. It’s a string of words that makes reader’s eyes gloss over. Fluff is where the skimming starts, folks. Why are we talking about the exact height in inches of the MMC’s cousin who appears once to pass over a football in the beginning? Is it possible to describe the setting in a way that displays the character’s personality or interests, rather than in a random list? Can any long sentences say the same thing, but with less words?

“She tugged at the left seam of her pant leg to pull it away from the sweat she could feel accumulating there since the beginning of the day.”

Now, I love a good semicolon. Using sentences of varying length gives rhythm to your work. I support intentional writing styles. Looooove me some long sentences. But I can’t help but think the above might be more compelling as:

“She tried to covertly tug her pants away from where they chaffed her sweaty thighs. Whoever decided to market them as “moisture wicking” could kiss her swampy ass.”

(Gasp, did I split that infinitive? How villainous.)

Break Your Characters for Growth

I think we’ve all heard of John Wick.

So many writers are hesitant to hurt their characters. To really wound them. To give them something they love and then brutally rip it away. They love their book babies. Or maybe they don’t know how to sit in the mind of a truly evil antagonist.

But how would the movie have gone if the bad guys had only smacked the dog in the head?

Now I’m not saying you have to murder puppies. (In fact, I recommend you don’t.) Maybe it’s a snow globe that symbolizes the character’s dreams of travel and it’s shattered by their significant other in yet another self-absorbed moment. Maybe that sets that character off on a journey of divorce and self-discovery. Maybe it’s the memory for brother-in-arms lost in combat, or maybe in order to defeat the big bad, a member of the party must be lost. These things can be bittersweet. Sad but honorable. They can hurt and still feel like the story couldn’t have gone any other way. Don’t be afraid of these big moments/feelings. Readers will relate to and cheer for a character that clings tight to or hides from their grief or pain or anger. After all, we know what it’s like.

Kill Your Darlings

Sometimes there are characters, scenes, or lines that we as authors LOVE. How heartbreaking that not all of them will stay. I’ll admit I’m still a little sad (or maybe my ego is sad) when I think about the purple-prose-ish level meandry metaphors that I cut from my first book, but I know it’s enjoyed more without them. I save things like that in a doc cleverly titled “Kill Your Darlings.” But maybe you don’t get lost in the sauce like I do. Maybe you’ve got a couple side characters that could merge into one person. Maybe you’ve got a POV character that simply isn’t necessary. How many of us have gotten to our least-favorite-POV in a book we’re reading and set it down with a sigh? Alternatively, you might love food or clothes, but does your character? Will an in-depth, six-page-long description tell the reader anything about them or the plot?

If it doesn’t, burn it.

All my villainous love,

Megan G. Mossgrove