Death of the Research Babies

One of the most painful parts of the editing process is cutting what they call "your babies".

For some this means sections or scenes that they love. The writer enjoyed creating it and believes it to be the best work they have ever done--yet some critic wants them to cut it for the sake of the work as a whole.

I don't mind that. I cut the scene without regret--saving it elsewhere for another project someday in the future. No problem.

For me "babies" are the parts I researched. And I don't mean thirty minutes of Googling. I mean weeks, if not months, of reading, interviewing, and detailed note-taking.

Hundreds of hours of my life spent learning about the Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London, plus military protocol and modern weaponry. Why did I learn all of these things? For a prologue that was scrapped because it "had nothing to do with the rest of the book." True? Yes. Was I right to toss it? Absolutely!

But I am left with a slight ouch when I think of the time I put into it.

Other topics I lived and breathed for no reason at all?
Photography
French grammar
The Louvre

The funniest part? As painful as these lost "babies" seem, it's so worth it when you see the finished product and realize how much better it is without the researched gunk.

My manuscript is still, yes STILL, doing the rounds with publishers. But I just finished trimming it down and we're sending it out fresh and new this week. I don't know if it'll sell this time. You can't know for sure until it happens.

But I'm proud of my book. It's beautiful. It's magic. Before I cut the "babies" away, it was good. Now it's something special.

Let's see if we can convince a publisher that I'm right!