I make a lot of my living as a freelance writer, which means people pay me to write all kinds of things. Some are fun and creative, some are … not. Some make me question my sanity, but as long as the check clears, I tend to get over it with the help of a nice dram of something brown and liquory.
I have one job that has pretty strict word counts, and involves taking a lot of material and research and boiling it down to that word count. Invariably, this means that my first draft of every piece is approximately five billion words over, and I have to start cutting.
And as a writer, you learn a lot about the mechanics of writing from cutting. You also learn how terrible you are at first drafts.
Everything is Terrible
I am old and wizened enough to remember when Twitter had a 140-character limit, and every tweet was an exercise in sculpting language. Trying to communicate nuance with 140 characters was tough, but as a result of that hellscape I now find 280 characters flabby. It’s too much space.
Cutting, of course, is a skill. You don’t have to read the infinite ‘restored’ version of The Stand to know that writing without limits has its downside. And that’s why my freelance gig with the hard word counts is actually good for me. Taking 1,200 flabby words and cutting them into a diamond-sharp 600 word gem isn’t always easy, but it usually requires that I consider every sentence–every word. I have to justify every word, every phrase, and think about whether I can say the same thing in fewer words.
Usually, fewer words is more powerful writing.
As an experiment, I’m thinking of trying to write a novel with a preset word count. Something borderline, like 55,000 words. A big, epic story whose first draft is going to be 150,000 words, and then try to go through every line and cut out more than half of the words, just to see if what’s left is a razor-sharp story or a skinny mess.
Because I’m starting to think the main test of a writer is cutting the words down to the bone, and then cutting some more, and somehow still ending up with exactly what you wanted.
For example, this post was originally 6,700 words long, including a lengthy middle section in which I confessed to my crimes. You’re welcome.