Kill Your Darlings

The Oddfellows Masoleum, Santa Rosa, California

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.””

— Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir

Let me take you back in time, to 2016.

It was the perfect gig for a horror writer. I was invited to do a reading at the Mystery Writer’s Halloween event at the Oddfellow’s Mausoleum. A reading of Darkness Below. On the spookiest night of the year. In a hundred-year-old tomb without electricity.

In the weeks leading up to the event, I prepared as much as I could. I wanted to live up to the venue.

I practiced the reading. Again and again and again . I rehearsed until I had things down cold (forgive the pun).

That night, when I stepped up to the candle-lit podium, everything clicked. The words flowed. I felt the tension of the crowd rise as I told the story of a woman possessed by something much worse than the dead. And when I hit the final word, the audience gasped. Actually gasped. The reading was everything I hoped it would be.

The only problem?

The chapter I read that night no longer exists in its original form.

It was cut down. A lot.

I killed my darling.

What was wrong with it?

That was the heart-breaking part. Nothing was wrong with it. In fact, it was some of my best writing. And that wasn’t just my “egocentric little scribbler’s heart” talking. My editor agreed.

The reason I cut it was simple.

The first chapter didn’t work. It didn’t do what first chapters were supposed to do: launch the readers into the world.

It was a dead-end, a pretty little cul-de-sac and nothing more.

It had to go. I had to let it go and it killed me.

It really KILLED me.

I wound up making the right choice. The rest of the story works much better now that it’s gone. Oh, it still hurts. When I think about the reading on that magical night, I get a twinge. But I take consolation in the fact that the chapter is still with me, stored safely in my iCloud account.

Want to read it?

Click here or on the discarded books below to read both versions.

And let me know which one YOU think is better ; )

 

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Of Earworms And Rickrolls

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The Missing Voice