Many nonfiction writers want to include everything related to their topic: each detail, observation and fascinating fact.
Paradoxically, this generous and diligent impulse often reduces the value of the work if the purpose extends beyond sheer entertainment.
Books, articles, and blog posts that explain ideas fill their purpose only when someone learns and remembers the content. Adding “more” simply crowds out that process; not only does the extraneous stuff slide right past us, but we lose our grasp on the essentials. Or, we simply stop reading.
Learn to love the pruning
I have this tendency myself, whether writing a book or creating a course. I want to share everything I know.
Most people are happy to internalize a few key concepts from anything they read. That’s why editing and revising usually involves a lot of pruning.
When writing for blog posts and newsletters, it pays to be ruthless. When writing books, we have more latitude, as people settle in for a while. Still, we must consider the reader and their needs.
For many writers, this pruning seems painful. I’ve come to consider it a magical moment when the project really takes its final shape. My challenges are many: How much can I eliminate while keeping the core? Can I make it more effective by paring down the prose?
Sometimes, editing is like creating a topiary animal from shaggy shrubbery—it requires planning and precision.
Plan before you prune
First, of course, know your goals. If working in your yard, are you clearing a path through the garden? Are you pruning trees for height or fullness? Getting rid of dead stuff?
In you writing, are you clearing a path for the reader? Shaping ideas for impact? Going for depth?
Identify the key concepts you want people to retain. You can, of course, include more. But remember, the reader may have limited capacity. Make sure your core elements shine.
All that’s cut is not lost
Pruning the rosebush is a great reason to bring some blooms indoors for a vase. Similarly, sections you cut from your writing may find a new home in blog posts or other work. When working on a book manuscript, I recommend creating a companion file of “things that need a new home.” When something doesn’t serve the manuscript, you simply relocate it so it can wait for another home.
To prove the point, this post originated in a section that I pruned out of my latest work-in-progress. I added the pruning metaphor and turned it into writing advice.
If you’re not sure where to cut, you might consult a reader or editor. Or, run your work through an AI model like ChatGPT and see what it suggests. Here are a few simple prompts you might use.
First, describe the ideal reader and the purpose of the piece. Then ask:
- How would you make this passage/post more concise?
- Do you have any suggestions for how to reduce the word count by 10 percent?
- How would you edit this piece to support the following three key ideas: <list ideas>
Please note, you can observe its suggestions and learn from them. You don’t have to act on them!
Admire your work
Take pleasure in this work. By sacrificing words, you’ve made those that remain work better for the reader. You’ve revealed the underlying structure or brought the key concepts into sharp relief.
And, at some point you have to stop pruning and let go. Don’t get stuck trimming until there’s nothing left but a few sticks.
Related content
How much to prune is a matter of taste. As a reader, do you prefer conciseness or detail in your nonfiction books? Weigh in on this in my Nonfiction Reading Survey.
