On writing: kill your darlings

That's the important thing — the story. Writing serves the story, the writer serves the story. A writer's job is conjuration, to pluck forth the words that bring that story to life. But the temptation is to put in something that is selfish, that serves the writer, not the story. These are often the things we view as darlings, because we treasure them, we think they're brilliant, but sometimes they have no business in that story. Because these sirens as so alluring, when one encounters them, it's best to review it critically. Is this for the story, or is this for me?
I don’t see this dichotomy. I agree about doing everything you can to make that story good, but I don’t subscribe to this dividing line between the story and the writer. There is no such such line in my work. The writer is the story’s creator, nothing in it comes from anywhere else. The whole principle of the story is the writer creating something. Not the story being the master of the writer.

I view it more as a symbiotic relationship. But one in which the writer is the major partner. Of course you can think of it any way you want. I seldom say, “My characters have a mind of their own.” If they do, it’s my mind. I’m fully in charge. It’s my creation and I pull all the strings. I’m the boss of the story, not the other way around.
 
I believe the story is far more important than silly little me. I'm just the lucky writer who happened to be granted the opportunity to tell it.
I couldn’t disagree more with this almost metaphysical viewpoint. It’s totally ignoring where true agency lies.

The greatest stories of all time were created by the greatest writers, wholly and utterly intentionally. Every single letter. They weren’t gifts granted to them by supernatural beings, they were entirely the product of the authors’ intellects and emotions and observations and insights and imaginations.

Writers write stories, stories don’t write themselves
 
I don’t see this dichotomy. I agree about doing everything you can to make that story good, but I don’t subscribe to this dividing line between the story and the writer. There is no such such line in my work. The writer is the story’s creator, nothing in it comes from anywhere else. The whole principle of the story is the writer creating something. Not the story being the master of the writer.

I view it more as a symbiotic relationship. But one in which the writer is the major partner. Of course you can think of it any way you want. I seldom say, “My characters have a mind of their own.” If they do, it’s my mind. I’m fully in charge. It’s my creation and I pull all the strings. I’m the boss of the story, not the other way around.

I couldn’t disagree more with this almost metaphysical viewpoint. It’s totally ignoring where true agency lies.

The greatest stories of all time were created by the greatest writers, wholly and utterly intentionally. Every single letter. They weren’t gifts granted to them by supernatural beings, they were entirely the product of the authors’ intellects and emotions and observations and insights and imaginations.

Writers write stories, stories don’t write themselves

Might be part metaphor, part pantser "what the fuck is my story doing right now, I didn't mean for that to happen" way of looking at it 😁 😝 I get how that comes off as "story is magic thing gifted to me by gods." Not what I mean, though.

I've done a lot of fighting with stories, that's where a lot of this philosophy comes from. I have an idea for a story, I write it, it goes poorly and tries to right itself, and I come in with a heavy hand and attempt to corral it into the shape I want. I spent many, many years doing that, and subpar work was the result. Realizing the story has a path of least resistence, characters, too, has seen me hold the story with less of an iron fist, and more of a gentle grip, keeping my hands on the rein, but not yanking and forcing it to go somewhere it doesn't want to.

Do I perhaps romanticize it a bit? Probably. Definitively. It's so funny how not hippie-dippy I am in real life, and this is kind of the one area I am.

Do I think there's some higher power handing the story to me? Probably not (I can't disprove it, though). But the story is a gift from some part of myself, and I feel an obligation to tell it the way it wants to be told. That path of least resistance is a subconscious thing happening, I have little doubt of that, but it is certainly a thing not to be discounted as if the conscious writer is the sole arbiter of all words and ideas.

There are levels to writers, the storyteller being the base creature, sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious, the writer a level above that doing the translations of the story into words, the editor being the highest level, making judgement calls and sending things back down a level to fix when needed, and the storyteller then evaluates and exerts pressure when the writer starts to interfere with the story. Id, ego, superego, if you would. A story requires all parts to work together to truly shine.
 
I see this in two ways:
1. Don't fall too in love with your words.
2. Cut that non-contributing stuff out.

For 1, I've put down books, and clicked away from stories, when it seems like literary masturbation (the bad kind).
For 2, a concrete example: This afternoon I trimmed about 300 words from a 8,000 word part I'm about to post, because I put unnecessary detail in, that didn't drive the story forward. When I wrote it, I thought "Oh, yeah, I just learned about this, it'll provide some 'colour' ". Which was nonsense, it didn't provide any benefit, it just made that part slower moving.
 
I've done a lot of fighting with stories, that's where a lot of this philosophy comes from. I have an idea for a story, I write it, it goes poorly and tries to right itself, and I come in with a heavy hand and attempt to corral it into the shape I want. I spent many, many years doing that, and subpar work was the result. Realizing the story has a path of least resistence, characters, too, has seen me hold the story with less of an iron fist, and more of a gentle grip, keeping my hands on the rein, but not yanking and forcing it to go somewhere it doesn't want to.
Hun, you are battling with yourself. There is no one else there. The story is you. Not a separate entity.
 
There are levels to writers, the storyteller being the base creature, sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious, the writer a level above that doing the translations of the story into words, the editor being the highest level, making judgement calls and sending things back down a level to fix when needed, and the storyteller then evaluates and exerts pressure when the writer starts to interfere with the story. Id, ego, superego, if you would. A story requires all parts to work together to truly shine.
You are simply describing how a human brain works, nothing more. It’s not romantic in the least, but it is fucking amazing.
 
Hun, you are battling with yourself. There is no one else there. The story is you. Not a separate entity.
No one's disagreeing with that, believe me 😆 😁

I make the distinction between the writer and the storyteller (and editor) because the storyteller tells to exist at a more subconscious level, and so it helps to separate the disparate forces exerting control on the story so I can differentiate between which one is making a decision about how best to serve the story. Who's making the call about the direction of the story? Is it the storyteller, the writer, or the editor? They all have different priorities, which creates inherent tension, and sometimes one is better than the other for the purposes, but it's good to know and distinguish them from each other to understand their motivations.
 
I see this in two ways:
1. Don't fall too in love with your words.
2. Cut that non-contributing stuff out.

For 1, I've put down books, and clicked away from stories, when it seems like literary masturbation (the bad kind).
For 2, a concrete example: This afternoon I trimmed about 300 words from a 8,000 word part I'm about to post, because I put unnecessary detail in, that didn't drive the story forward. When I wrote it, I thought "Oh, yeah, I just learned about this, it'll provide some 'colour' ". Which was nonsense, it didn't provide any benefit, it just made that part slower moving.
Some stories are more about the color than about the plot.
 
I make the distinction between the writer and the storyteller (and editor) because the storyteller tells to exist at a more subconscious level, and so it helps to separate the disparate forces exerting control on the story so I can differentiate between which one is making a decision about how best to serve the story. Who's making the call about the direction of the story? Is it the storyteller, the writer, or the editor? They all have different priorities, which creates inherent tension, and sometimes one is better than the other for the purposes, but it's good to know and distinguish them from each other to understand their motivations
Unbidden I have images of Edward Norton and Brad Pitt swimming before my eyes. I take medication for it…
 
I see this in two ways:
1. Don't fall too in love with your words.
2. Cut that non-contributing stuff out.

Some stories are more about the color than about the plot.
This.

It really helps to understand what you're trying to achieve with a particular piece of writing.

If it's Gothic horror, you'll want to lay the mood on thick, and get very descriptive, and you can probably get away with prose that borders on purple. But successive paragraphs where you show off your detailed knowledge of steam locomotion and its impact on society would probably be better off buried in a shallow grave.

If you're writing a contemporary romance, you might want to make your descriptions breezier, and cut out any extended descriptions of misty moors and the cry of the curlew. But that leaves more room for explorations of your protagonist's person, and for some witty dialogue.

In a high-paced sci-fi adventure story, you can indulge in details of weapon and gear, and instead trim out summaries of each character's dating lives.

FWIW, I've always understood "kill your darlings" to mean "be willing to kill them". As in, recognise that they don't serve the story you're trying to tell, and be ruthless about eliminating them no matter how pleased you are with yourself.

Of course the other solution is to change your story so that they *do* serve it. In other threads we've mentioned Chekov's Gun. If you're reluctant about killing a particular darling, you can embed it more firmly in the story: either by returning to it later so that it becomes a CG, or else by inserting a CG earlier that foreshadows your darling.

Also remember that this doesn't necessarily have to be a plot point, or an action moment. It can be a clue about a character's mindset, or a detail that implants a clue in your reader's mind about a big reveal or plot twist, or any of a dozen tricks that give your story more depth and make your reader feel more engaged.
 
I think this is ridiculous. It assumes that authors aren't able to render judgement on their own work.

If you add "Be willing to..." to the beginning, then it's OK.

Certainly an artist can judge his own work but he is in somewhat of a blind spot. He has a perspective on his own work that no one else can have, and everyone else is who is going to receive the work, so he can never truly know how it will be received. This is why a good beta reader is pure gold to a writer.
 
This.

It really helps to understand what you're trying to achieve with a particular piece of writing.

If it's Gothic horror, you'll want to lay the mood on thick, and get very descriptive, and you can probably get away with prose that borders on purple. But successive paragraphs where you show off your detailed knowledge of steam locomotion and its impact on society would probably be better off buried in a shallow grave.

If you're writing a contemporary romance, you might want to make your descriptions breezier, and cut out any extended descriptions of misty moors and the cry of the curlew. But that leaves more room for explorations of your protagonist's person, and for some witty dialogue.

In a high-paced sci-fi adventure story, you can indulge in details of weapon and gear, and instead trim out summaries of each character's dating lives.

FWIW, I've always understood "kill your darlings" to mean "be willing to kill them". As in, recognise that they don't serve the story you're trying to tell, and be ruthless about eliminating them no matter how pleased you are with yourself.

Of course the other solution is to change your story so that they *do* serve it. In other threads we've mentioned Chekov's Gun. If you're reluctant about killing a particular darling, you can embed it more firmly in the story: either by returning to it later so that it becomes a CG, or else by inserting a CG earlier that foreshadows your darling.

Also remember that this doesn't necessarily have to be a plot point, or an action moment. It can be a clue about a character's mindset, or a detail that implants a clue in your reader's mind about a big reveal or plot twist, or any of a dozen tricks that give your story more depth and make your reader feel more engaged.
The voice of experience 😊
 
It might be interesting to compile a list of Killed Darlings, along with reasons for the murders. How much slaughter lies in the minds of authors? I suspect there's wide variation. And one person's KD might be another's femme fatale.

Or somebody could write a story about it all.
 
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