How to deal with leftovers (from editing)
Extra, extra: Have a look behind the scenes! On this extra week I'll skip stories about climate and food - and write about how to write them.
Dear Climate Culinarians, dear fellow writers,
This May has five Thursdays! That means Climate Culinarians gets an extra newsletter, which is all about how to write about climate (and this works for writing about food, too). Specifically, about the things you’ll never get to see in a great book or article: the leftovers. Paragraphs, words, whole pages have been cut from published works. And few writers find it easy to let go of words. Cutting certainly is a struggle for me. So I had to find a few tricks. Let’s explore what might work for you, too.
New here? Every month, Climate Culinarians picks one topic and publishes a series of newsletters about it, ending with a recipe (see the weekly structure here). May was all about stoves: It started with Induction or Gas? Why this change in you kitchen pays off, explaining why a gas stove is considered a threat to your health and to the planet. Followed by what to do about it, then reading recommendations and a recipe. Get new issues in your inbox for free!
You’re only here for the writing exercises? The next issue will be in July 2025. Don’t miss!
4 ways to deal with the stuff you have to cut
Write first. Edit later. It sounds so easy, right? Just as easy as the nonfiction mantra:
“One idea per paragraph, one information per sentence.”
Looking back at the page, I notice it now: too much information. A pile of words. Whole paragraphs even. Still looking pretty brilliant, if I say so yourself. Cutting starts to feel like erasing my thoughts. So I start looking for a home for them. In my text. The same text from which I just decided to cut them. Aaaaargh!
There’s gotta be a better way to deal with these leftovers. But there isn’t. Well, not just one way. Writers have several options! Here’s four that I find useful:
Outsource the pain
Make a copy of your draft and give it to an editor. You could hire a professional editor. Or barter with a fellow writer: return the favor, bake them a cake, whatever you agree on. Then review the edited text, take it from there. Why does this method work? It takes away the pain: You don’t have to kill all these beloved words. And they are not dead, they are just sleeping (in your original draft).
Use the standing type trick
Printers used to produce books, newspapers, and pamphlets with metal types. These leaden letters would be arranged to words and sentences by hand, then printed on paper. For future editions, printing companies kept blocks of already set types on shelves: Standing type saved the time and cost of another round of setting and proofreading. The modern standing type has a different function: Move cut sentences or paragraphs out of the way - and shelve them. Your standing type can sit at the bottom of your writing or in a separate file. You’ll easily find them if needed. Why is this a relief? The delete button feels final. Now you don’t have to push it. Bonus: You can use a standing type file as a resource for new texts on similar subjects.
Start fresh(ly shaven)
When you’re done writing and start editing, save a new version of your draft first. Now you can shave off half of the text without losing a word. It’s like deleting with insurance! Should you regret a cut later, you’ll find it in earlier versions. It feels so safe to know the words are still out there! There is another reason why this works: Sometimes the stuff you cut holds the seed of an idea. And a fresh draft gives you the space to try again and put this idea into (better) words.
Take a chance on radical freedom
You could just stick to your editing decisions and … delete. Anxious? Run a trial: Move all cuts to the bottom of your file - temporarily. Then do something else (or sleep on it) before you get back for another read. If the text is fine without that stuff, delete everything you moved to the bottom. Don’t look, just delete. There you have it: You are a ruthless writer, ready to move on.
Now you do it!
This is an exercise for nonfiction: Experiment with cutting whole chunks from your text, and make conscious decisions about the leftovers you create.
Take one of your drafts and save a new copy. Get ready to cut … a lot. Then follow these seven steps:
Decide what you will do with the leftovers. Bonus points if you pick a method you haven’t tried before.
Go through the text and find a key word for each paragraph.
Write a headline for each paragraph. Don’t go for witty phrases, but for concrete summary, preferably including a verb. For example, for a paragraph about methane emissions from food waste, don’t write “A hidden menace”, write “Leftovers emit greenhouse gas” or “What happens with leftovers after you dump them”.
Edit each paragraph so that it only contains information related to the idea that the headline/keyword suggests. Everything else must go.
Save a version of the edited text, without leftovers.
Review the new text. Is all the relevant information there? Is anything missing? If necessary, revise the text accordingly. Do not (yet) worry about the flow.
If you chose any method that stores cuts somewhere: Review your leftovers. Do they spark ideas for a new project? Make a decision if you want to keep them, or some of them, and where.
Please note: This round of editing will not suffice to polish your text. You will also have to look at the logical flow from one paragraph to the next, the tone, readability, etc. This exercise just helps you figure out how to let go of your words, and what to do with these leftovers.
Why this exercise?
Because editing, not writing, is every writer’s primary task. Especially when you write about climate-related issues: These issues are interconnected, solutions aren’t straight-forward, complex concepts require explanation. Therefore, climate writers need space to develop their thoughts. But eventually, you need to get to the point.
Get lost! But in a good way!
Why should a writer restrict the safety of thought storage to editing? Start a journal. On paper, in an app, wherever you take quick notes. Write down every idea. Now they are safe! No need to keep them swirling through your mind. So when it’s time to write, you can focus on one of these ideas. Of course, you’ll first have to decide which one to pick …
What’s your favorite place to store ideas, thoughts, quips?
If you like these writing exercises, you’ll get more from me whenever there is a fifth Thursday in a month. Which will happen again in July.
What’s next? In June, Climate Culinarians will take you to the seaside! So next week, you’ll read about a climate solution that some people also want to become the new kale, because it … nope, you gotta wait and see.
Read, eat, repeat!
Petrina
Climate Culinarians is a project by me, Petrina Engelke. I write about climate and food, and I help other writers turn their ideas into a book people want to read. In other words: I’m a journalist and a book coach. Read more about this newsletter & me here.