Cutting The Right Words: A scene surgeon's guide to leaner, stronger fiction
- Fiction Yogi
- Aug 4
- 6 min read
Updated: Aug 27
In this article we'll consider:
Killing your darlings, gently
The enemy of momentum
Where to start cutting
Common culprits
When not to cut
A simple, repeatable cutting process
A reminder before we begin: There are no "shoulds", "musts", or "rules" in fiction writing—only advice, guidance, and topics of discussion. I'm a firm believer in letting your story and individual scenes determine how they should be written; rhythm, in particular, greatly influences word choice, and sentence length and structure. Additionally, remember that too many words is better than not enough in early drafts—it gives you room to sharpen your prose later. With those disclaimers in mind, let's explore how we can improve our stories during editing.
You wrote your novel with care. The rhythm felt right. The voice sounded on point. And yet somewhere between “Chapter One” and “The End”, your manuscript picked up extra weight—unnecessary words, redundant phrases, and lines that appeared to work when you wrote them but now you're not so sure.
Every writer knows this special kind of pain. Staring down scenes you adore, knowing in your gut that they're bloated and not quite hitting their mark—but not knowing what to cut to make it better.
Welcome to the world of "killing your darlings".
But rather than slash blindly, your job, like a scene surgeon, is to trim with a scalpel's precision, strengthening the prose without losing the heart of your story. Let’s walk through how to do it.
Why wordiness hurts good fiction
Wordiness doesn’t just make a manuscript longer. It has the potential to slow pacing, dilute emotion, and clutter clarity. Even if your story is brilliant, excess words can turn tension into tedium and lyricism into lag. Most importantly? Readers notice when they’re being talked at.
Fiction thrives on momentum. Your job as editor of your subsequent drafts is to remove the verbal scaffolding and let the story stand clean and bold by itself.
To be clear, the goal isn’t minimalism for minimalism’s sake. It’s clarity, strength, focus. And when done well, your scenes will deliver a greater impact.
Where to start cutting: A conversation with the scene
Editing doesn’t begin with deletion. It starts with a reassessment. Think of it like walking into a cluttered room—not with the intention of throwing everything out, but asking, What belongs here? What doesn’t? What’s distracting from what matters most?
Before touching a word, ask yourself three things:
What is the purpose of this scene?
What is its emotional core?
What does the reader absolutely need to know right now?
Once you’ve clarified the scene’s goal, you’re ready to cut what isn’t serving it.
Common targets for the editing scalpel
Here are some of the most frequent offenders—and how to clean them up without damaging voice or rhythm.
1. Redundant Phrases
We all do it during that messy, blurry frenzy of writing a first draft. “She nodded her head.” (What else would she nod?) “He stood up.” (Standing is already up.)
Instead of:
“She shrugged her shoulders and blinked her eyes in confusion.”
Try:
“She shrugged and blinked, confused.”
Simple. Direct. No loss of meaning.
2. Obvious Stage Directions
Your characters' physical movements relay not only what's happening in the scene, but also how they feel about it, consciously or subconsciously. Additionally, I'll often use "stage directions" when I want to insert a dramatic pause in a piece of dialogue. For example: "So what exactly are you saying?" She lowered herself into the chair, legs trembling. "That you're leaving me?"
However, we have to be careful not to overdo it. Readers don’t need to be informed of every movement—only what's relevant. For example, if someone stands, we usually don’t need to see them uncross their arms, shift their weight, and look at their shoes, unless it’s meaningful to that moment.
Ask yourself:
Does this physical action reveal emotion or subtext?
Does it serve any other (technical or rhythmic) purpose?
Or is it just filling space?
If the answer is the latter, trim it. Let your characters exist without constant motion, and allow your readers to fill in the gaps themselves.
3. Filter Words That Distance the Reader
This is a very common culprit, and again, sometimes filter words are useful for rhythm, but generally speaking, phrases like "she saw", "he felt", "they heard" create a buffer between the character and the reader. In other words, they set the reader apart from the action, so the reader is watching on rather than "directly experiencing" along with your character.
For example, experience the difference between:
“He felt a chill crawl up his spine.”
And:
“A chill crawled up his spine.”
Cleaner. Closer. Lessening the narrative distance between reader and story, making the reading experience more immersive.
Not every filter word must go, but when in doubt, see how the sentence reads without it. Often, the effect is stronger and more immediate.
4. Empty Intensifiers
Often, words like "very", "really", "quite", and "just" will weaken the sentence rather than strengthen it.
For example, instead of:
“The sky was very dark and just a little frightening.”
Try:
“The sky was dark with an air of menace.”
For greater impact, replace fluff with something precise or evocative. Let your adjectives do the heavy lifting.
5. Tautologies and Overexplaining
Overexplaining is generally something we all do in early drafts; new writers are especially fearful of their narrative not being understood. This can make it difficult to know what to cut or how much. But what we shouldn't lose sleep over is cutting phrases that state the obvious, or restate the same thing in different words.
For example, instead of:
“He whispered quietly.”
“She thought to herself.”
“He paced back and forth across the room repeatedly, over and over again.”
Try:
"He whispered."
"She thought."
"He paced back and forth, restless."
When you notice a tautology, pick the word that carries the most meaning—and let the rest go.
6. Repeating What's Already Been Told
Repetition is a technique that can serve many purposes in your narrative (see: How to Use Repetition as a Literary Device). But when it's not being used purposefully, it's an unnecessary distraction.
For instance, essentially there are three ways information is delivered in the narrative—action, inner monologue (narrator or character), dialogue. If, for example, the narrative describes a character on the verge of getting fired from her job (action), it's not always necessary for that character to then repeat the circumstances of this event in a piece of dialogue. Unless... the repetition gives us additional knowledge or tells us something about the character (such as what they choose to convey, how they convey it, and/or how they feel about it).
If there's no purpose, however, the repetition only slows momentum. So rather than your character, for example, relaying through dialogue events that were "witnessed" in the narrative, you could summarize instead:
Cassandra told Peter everything that had happened since she saw him at breakfast—the delayed train, the fight with her boss when she finally got to work, the meeting they excluded her from, her concern they might be about to fire her. "Can you believe it?" she asked when she was finished. "After all I've done for them."
How to know what shouldn’t be cut
Not every long sentence is bad. Not every adjective is fluff. Part of learning to edit is learning what to protect.
Keep a line if:
It deepens emotional subtext
It adds rhythm or emphasis intentionally
It reveals something essential about the character
It provides necessary pacing or breath in a tense scene
Think of your words like brushstrokes in a painting. Some add detail, others shape the whole. Your job is to decide which are essential—and which are just noise.
A simple, repeatable cutting process
When we're editing, there are so many things we're trying to assess for effectiveness that it's not possible to catch everything in one pass. So here’s a process you can use again and again:
Scene purpose check: What’s this scene trying to do?
Highlight key beats: What absolutely must stay?
Read aloud: Notice where your attention drifts or where rhythm stalls.
Line by line trim: Focus on redundancy, over-description, filter words, and unnecessary filler.
Voice pass: Make sure your character's voice remains strong and clear.
Even small changes can make a big difference. You’re not just cutting words—you’re amplifying the story.
💡 NEED A BOOST?
Sometimes you're not ready for a full edit. My Manuscript Boost services are affordable, focused, and designed to give you clear, professional feedback right where you need it most.
Finally...
Writers often fear that trimming will flatten their style. But strong voice doesn’t depend on more words—it depends on the right words. Tighter prose often strengthens voice, rather than diminishes it.
Editing is an act of respect, for the story and for the reader. When you cut what doesn’t belong, you create space for what does, allowing the reader to get closer to what really matters.
So yes, be ruthless, be bold. But, more importantly, be intentional. Because cutting the right words isn’t about writing less, it’s about writing better.
Tina Williams of Fiction Yogi is an editor who works with writers at all stages, giving them the tools to improve their manuscript and level up their writing so they can meet their publishing goals.
