I had heard somewhere that "in writing, you must kill your darlings." William Faulkner said this and many other writers have said this. I guess until you come to the point where your finger is poised over the delete button this doesn't really make sense. Growing up, I never thought I would be someone capable ofkilling. But as a writer, the act of murder is often necessary to rid pages of unnecessary details, scenes, dialogue, etc.
During the first two rounds of revisions, I went through the book but I didn't really kill much. Sure I made changes, loads of them, and cleaned up plot points and it felt good knowing that I had finally finished writing my first book. I suppose because I actually killed a character that I thought this might be good enough. Looking back, I can see that I was scared of actually going through and making big cuts. I guess I thought that if I left any details out that my future readers wouldn't get it. It wasn't until this week that I found out this fear was irrational and most likely normal for someone who has never done a full round of revisions.
I could never imagine killing my darlings but I have to say, I did it, and I haven't broken down and rethought my entire existence as a writer. On the contrary, I feel more strongly than ever that my book matters. I guess in writing the book I love I might have written a book other people may love someday. That's my dream.
Unlike Fantine from Les Miserables, I don't think "life has killed the dream I dreamed." At this point, life, though bitter and unkind, has still given me the tools to clear my mind the only way I know how. Writing. I'm not sure I could live without it even if I wasn't actually writing stories. I think I could be content just writing for me. But now that I have finished revising my book, killed my darlings, and gotten rid of ten pages and three thousand words, I'm not sure it is enough to keep this story only in my brain. I want to share it. So what comes next? Well, research, query letters, belief, and faith. And hopefully I'm on my way to sharing this story with readers like my best friend, because he is the type of person I wrote this book for.
xoxo
K.K.