Transcript:

I have a confession to make: I’m a cold-blooded killer… of words.

Oh my god, did you think I meant people?? What’s wrong with you? No, no, no—I kill words. Precious words. Words I spent so long crafting and bringing to life. But once I realize they serve no purpose, they have to go. Now, they’re sleeping with the fishes.

If you want your writing to be clear, concise, and well-paced, join me in The Purge—the purge of our writing. Don’t worry; the only violence here is on the page. But there will be blood… or at least red ink.

Hi, I’m C. Sloan Lewis, and welcome to my channel!

You’ve probably heard the phrase “In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” While it’s often attributed to William Faulkner, it seems Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch said it first. I, however, first heard it from Stephen King, who said, “Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.” Ah, Stephen King, always putting ideas into words I can get behind.

But what does “killing your darlings” actually mean? And do you really have to kill all of them?

In short, this advice encourages writers to cut out parts of their writing—yes, even the parts they love most—if those parts don’t serve the story. Originally, this advice was about avoiding indulgent writing, like purple prose or a three-page description of a buffet table. Today, we can point to specific examples in our work that might fall under the “kill your darlings” umbrella.

Here are some common “darlings” that might need to go:

1. Overly poetic or clever lines – These might make you feel like a genius, but they often disrupt the tone or momentum of your story.
2. Scenes and dialogue that don’t move the plot forward – Everyday life moments like getting ready, driving to work, or eating a meal might feel realistic, but if nothing important happens or is revealed, they’re just filler.
3. Characters who don’t contribute to the story’s core conflict or themes – This is where the “murder” analogy gets real. While characters might make sense in a real-life context, in fiction, every character must have a purpose.

Many new writers misinterpret this advice, thinking they need to cut everything they love about their story. That’s not true. This is about being ruthless for the sake of your story. In other words: do what’s best for your story, even if it means letting go of what’s best for you.

Loving your work isn’t the problem. In fact, just like with most forms of love, you sometimes have to make hard choices to support it. I’d love to give my toddler a cookie every time she asks for one, but I know moderation is best for her (even if it leads to a tantrum). If you truly love your story, you’ll do what’s best for it, even if it’s tough.

The good news? Many of your favorite lines, scenes, and characters will still make the cut. This advice isn’t about saying your favorite parts are bad—it’s about letting go of what doesn’t fit.

One important note: this advice is for the revision stage only. Please don’t stress about this while drafting. If you’re constantly asking yourself, “Does this contribute to the story?” while writing your first draft, you’ll never finish it. Write your first draft with wild abandon. Experiment, go nuts with characters, and write whatever speaks to your heart. Then, during revisions, that’s when the bloodshed begins.

When you revise, ask yourself:

• “Does this serve the story’s purpose or theme?”
• “Would the story work without this element?”

Try to be as objective as possible during your first pass, but know that outside help is essential to truly complete the purge.

You’ll need beta readers, critique partners, workshop groups, a writing coach, or even friends and family to read your story. They’ll help identify darlings that need to go. In my experience, this is one of the hardest parts of receiving feedback. It’s tough to hear that a scene or character you adore doesn’t work.

When you face the idea of cutting that darling, it can feel like betrayal. You might even go through the five stages of grief:

1. Denial (“They must’ve read it wrong!”)
2. Anger (“How dare they criticize my writing?”)
3. Bargaining (“Maybe if I tweak it, it’ll work!”)
4. Depression (“Why am I even a writer?”)
5. Acceptance (“Okay… it’s got to go.”)

If it helps, copy and paste what you’re cutting into a separate document. Maybe it’ll fit into a future project. At the very least, it’s not completely gone.

As Shakespeare said, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” Or, in more modern terms: Get to the point. Including unnecessary information can either mislead your readers—making them think something’s important when it’s not—or bore them. Readers want to stay engaged, not wade through fluff.

So, as painful as it is, you must kill your darlings. I’d love to tell you it gets easier with time, but… I’ve got no solid evidence for that. I still struggle with it, too. And it makes sense. Writing is art, it’s personal, and it matters.

What do you think about this advice? What’s been your hardest moment of killing your darlings? Let me know in the comments below!

If you enjoyed this video and want more content about the craft of writing, please like and subscribe. You’ve got some writing to do, and I’ll see you in the next video. Ta-ta!