I probably spent a couple of weeks on the chapter that I just hacked out of my manuscript. I liked it. It had fun and drama. But today I decided that Calyn just wouldn’t risk it–not with what she has at stake. Fortunately, a few other ideas rose up to take its place. Of course, those words are safely stored in the file that holds the other scraps that I’ve deleted along the way just in case they need to be resurrected after all. I’m doubting it.
There’s this classic quote on writing about how you should be ready to kill your darlings. This feels more like a massacre.