Happy Saturday, everyone! I wanted to take a moment today to talk about something every writer eventually has to make peace with: the cutting room floor. That metaphorical space where our beloved words, scenes, and clever turns of phrase go once we realize they simply aren’t serving the story.If you’ve been following along, many of you have read 1300 Feet Per Second, and I’m grateful for every bit of feedback that’s come my way. I’ll be honest—the response has been mixed, and that’s exactly the kind of honesty a writer needs. Readers have connected with the story itself, the concept behind it, and especially the character of Archer, a forensic computer specialist who hunts down hackers and other digital criminals. That’s been wonderful to hear.But the criticism has been just as valuable. The main issues readers have pointed out are inconsistencies—the kind of things I, as the author, overlooked (ahem, guilty as charged). And that brings me to why the cutting room floor matters so much.

When Feedback Becomes Your Beta

I’ve written before about the importance of beta readers, but here’s a truth many indie and first-time authors have to confront: sometimes reader feedback after publication becomes your only real “beta” process, if you will. Not every manuscript gets the luxury of a dozen sharp-eyed readers before it goes out into the world. Sometimes the world itself becomes your test audience, and the lessons come in the form of reviews and honest conversations.That’s humbling. But it’s also a gift, because it teaches you what to trim next time—and what to trim right now.

Killing Your Darlings

There’s an old piece of writing advice: “kill your darlings.” It sounds dramatic, but it simply means being willing to cut the things you’re most attached to when they don’t earn their place. This applies to whole subplots, sure, but it also applies to the small stuff that quietly bloats a manuscript.Here are the usual suspects that belong on the cutting room floor:Filler words. Words like just, really, very, actually, and that often sneak into prose without adding meaning. Strip them out and your sentences tighten instantly.Redundant description. If you’ve told the reader the room is dark, you don’t need to remind them three paragraphs later. Trust your reader’s memory.Repetition and inconsistencies. This is the big one for me right now. Continuity errors—a character’s eye color changing, a timeline that doesn’t add up, a detail contradicted later—pull readers out of the story faster than almost anything else. Careful trimming and re-reading catch these before they embarrass you (or after, as I’ve learned).Scenes that don’t move the story. If a scene doesn’t advance the plot, deepen a character, or raise the stakes, it’s probably a darling worth killing.

Why the Cut Makes the Story Stronger

Every word you remove sharpens the words that remain. A leaner manuscript reads faster, hits harder, and respects the reader’s time. The cutting room floor isn’t a graveyard—it’s a workshop. What you leave behind on that floor is often the very reason what stays feels so strong.

So as I take the lessons from 1300 Feet Per Second into my next revision and my next project, I’m embracing the trim. Archer’s story deserves a clean, consistent, tightly-woven version of itself, and getting there means being brave enough to cut.Thanks, as always, for reading and for the honest feedback. Keep it coming—it’s making me a better writer.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some darlings to say goodbye to.

Before You Go…

If this post resonated with you, do me a favor—hit that like button, drop a comment, and share it with a fellow writer who might be wrestling with their own cutting room floor. The more eyes on this blog, the more we can build a community of writers helping each other make those necessary (if painful) cuts. And honestly? I could use all the extra sets of eyes I can get catching those sneaky inconsistencies before they sneak past me again.So tell me in the comments: What’s the hardest darling you’ve ever had to kill? I read and reply to every single one.Until next time—have a wonderful weekend, and above all, keep writing. Those words won’t cut themselves! ✂️📖