I just cut 18,000 words from my 108,000-word manuscript.
Not scenes. Not subplots. Just fluff: -ly adverbs, passive constructions, and personal crutch words I'd been dragging along since the first draft. The manuscript breathes now. But I also mourned some of those flourishes—they'd once felt clever, even necessary. They weren't.
The Self-Edit Checklist in Seven Drafts by Allison K Williams inspired this round of edits. One of the most profitable exercises? Hunting down adverbs that ended in "-ly" and deciding: were they truly necessary or clearly padding? How did I do this?
"It's easy!" I said simply.
In this cheeky example, the dialogue is straightforward. "Simply" adds nothing. Worse, it clutters. Sometimes, I could cut the entire attribution because the speaker was obvious. Two fixes, 60% of the words gone.
Words like nearly, slightly, easily, carefully, and briefly were frequent offenders. I deleted most of them. In many cases, they were compensating for lazy word choice. In each case, I thought carefully about whether there was a stronger, more evocative verb. In fact, rather than thinking carefully, I mused. That's leaner, more evocative and half the number of words.
The biggest revelation? Adverbs often "tell" where I should be "showing."
What's more interesting—"Bob waited nervously" or "Bob straightened the waiting room magazines that didn't need straightening"?
The second adds words but improves the story. It paints a picture. It invites the reader to feel Bob's anxiety, not just be told about it. Not all cuts are about shrinking. Some are about replacing weak writing with strong.
On balance, I cut 2% of my total word count by reviewing adverbs alone. And yes—did you catch my own sins earlier? "Were they truly necessary or clearly padding?" See? Even while hunting them, I'm still planting them.
Old habits die hard. But 18,000 words harder? I'll take that progress.
