"In writing, you must kill your darlings." William Faulkner said this, and many other writers choose to agree. Until you come to the point where your finger is poised over the delete button, this doesn't make sense. Growing up, I never thought I would be someone capable of killing. 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,for BOOK ONE, I didn't kill much. Sure, I made changes, multitudes of them. I 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, I thought that alone might be good enough. Looking back, I know I was scared of actually going through and making big cuts. Maybe I thought if I left any details out that my future readers wouldn't get it. It wasn't until this week, however, 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. I haven't 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.
I'm not sure I could live without writing, even if I wasn't actually crafting 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 just for myself. I want to share it.
So what comes next?
Well, research. Then query letters, belief, and faith. And hopefully, I'm on my way to sharing this story with readers like you.