I cut the first two chapters of my novel today. The entire first two chapters. Every word. Just ripped them out whole-cloth after waking up at 5 this morning with an epiphany that I had started the book too early in the story.
Ten years ago, doing that to a book would have caused me grief and panic. Oh, my god. I would have died. Just given up. Or, I wouldn’t have cut it because I would have been scared.
But now I trust myself and my process. Now I know what it feels like when you do the right thing for a book. This morning, dumping all of those 8,000+ words felt freeing. It felt perfect.
It does make me panic about my upcoming deadline — 8,000+ words, just gone! — but I know in my heart that book is already better for it and that’s all that matters in the end.
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