Jim doesn’t seem to be the nervous type, but I imagine even his wild imagination could not keep out the voices in the press that summer, chanting that he was a failure. In a roundabout way, I was one of those press voices too, though I was observing the media as much as I was the troubled production. In retrospect, following that story in 1997 gave me more insight into how journalists are only human, and sometimes they get it wrong.
But I digress.
What I found especially interesting was how Jim dealt with the pressure. To this day, I don’t know who decided the movie’s release date would be pushed back, but I highly suspect Jim had something to do with it, even though he was (only) the director. He had something to do with everything, apparently. He was even known to put the finishing touches of makeup on himself because it “saves so much time”.
There was one interview in the autumn after the new Christmas release had been scheduled that has stuck with me. Jim was in the cutting room fine-tuning the movie. During the interview, he cut out part of the famous staircase scene to save on time and improve pacing.
“That was a million-dollar cut,” Jim told the journalist with a laugh.
I’ve puzzled over that quote for the last 25 years. Why would he laugh at that? Was it because his budget was so overblown that a million dollars meant nothing? Was it nervous laughter? Was it because he was an entertainer at heart, and he wanted to impress the journalist with his casual tone?
Or was it because he somehow knew that his movie, Titanic, would go on to be the biggest-grossing movie of all-time to that point and make over US$2 billion – if he got the story just right?
Time to Cut Anchor
James Cameron is by everyone’s accounts a complex guy, so this is a puzzle I don’t expect to ever solve. But there is one takeaway that I’ve always lived by in my own writing: there are no wasted words. Or, to put it another way: you can’t hang onto a scene simply because it “cost” too much – either in time or money.
But this is how many writers approach their own writing. Some – the lucky ones – talk about the heartbreaking decision of having to cut this passage or that chapter for length or some other story reason. Then, they move on with the story (or poem, or essay...) – and they move on with their lives. The not-so-lucky ones hold onto those words like life preservers, unaware those words are anchors in disguise that eventually drag both story and author down.
The reason they hold on so tightly is because they invested so much time writing them that to cut them seems a waste. But I’ll say it again: there are no wasted words.
This is one of those concepts that is easy to understand on an intellectual level, but hard to overcome on an emotional one. We can watch a show like “Hoarders” and wonder how people can live in those stacks of newspapers, yet still feel our hearts ripped out when faced with spring cleaning our own closets.
So it is with our precious, precious words. To snuff them out with the clickety-clack of a CTRL-X seems heartless and cruel.
But here’s a reality check: words aren’t living creatures. They aren’t snuffed out or offended or feel anything in any way. The only person who feels something is the writer – and we have to learn to get over it.
May the Force Be With You, Always
Have you ever seen a movie or read a book and thought, “Hmm, that might have been good if it was a bit shorter...”? We all have. Scenes that seem to run on without purpose, extra scenes stuck in for no reason, and description that turns “plot” to “plod”.
Star Wars could have been one of those movies. George Lucas showed an early cut to fellow directors Steven Spielberg and Brian DePalma. They hated it. The story was jumbled. The movie was too long. Certain scenes were too long. Other scenes seemed only to be there because, well, to cut them would be a waste, right?
Lucas handed the movie over to an editing team who were able to rework and (most importantly, in terms of this post) trim the run time for a tighter, faster, and ultimately blockbuster movie that would break box office records during the summer of 1977. (There’s a great YouTube video on the whole editing story here.)
Same thing for writers – you have to trim those excess words. This is especially true if you are a pantser. By our very nature, we’ll throw down many, many more words than will ever end up in the finished work. That’s because we explore the story by writing it, not by planning it. When I finally discard those words, much like a builder discards braces and concrete moulds, it’s not a waste either because I know the words that remain are stronger for it.
Filling the Cutting Room Floor – A How-to
Here I am again, logicking my way out of an emotional situation. But I have some ideas for making the editing process easier from an emotional standpoint, too:
Keep Your Cuttings – Don’t just delete the words. Cut and paste them into a separate document. That way, you can hold onto them as long as you like. Who knows? They might turn into a story of their own...
Put Your Story Away – It’s always good to let your drafts “cool down” between edits. I find the words still feel part of me if I go back to it too quickly (and it’s much harder to cut pieces of yourself!) Put your story away for days or weeks or months or whatever it will take for you to feel separation from the work. It will be much easier to trim words when you feel less of an emotional connection to the writing.
See the Forest for the Trees – Is your goal to publish that short story? Then your focus should be on doing everything in your power to make it publishable. Spoiler alert: that almost always includes cutting passages and even whole scenes from the work. The longer it is, the more words you’ll to cut — especially if you’re a pantser like I am. But that’s okay. Cut out the extra words so that the remaining words shine brighter.
Read the Work as if Someone Else Wrote It – This one takes a bit of practice. But if you can pretend that you’re reviewing someone else’s work, it’s much easier to make the necessary cuts.
Key Takeaway: Editing is a part of writing. And that means cutting out words that aren’t necessary to the story. Although this can be emotionally difficult, it’s an essential part of making the work better. Remember that there are no wasted words. Every word you cut helps make the other words shine brighter. Besides, those words live on; like wooden construction forms, they helped mould the words that remain.
How Do You Feel About Wasted Words?
Let us know in the comments below, along with any tips you have for making the editing process easier.
Thanks to the magic of YouTube, I’ll leave you with what I believe to be the cut James Cameron made to Titanic during that interview. As you’ll see, you missed absolutely nothing important to the story...
Until next time, keep writing with wild abandon!
~Graham
PS – this post was originally around 1,900 words until I cut about 650 – or a third – of them. I bet you can’t even tell what words are missing... lol And I don’t even remember what they were.
*In order to stop any angry letters and comments, I’ll state for the record that yes, I know the term is “anchors aweigh” and that “away” is a common misspelling. However, it is attempt at a witty pun referring to the metaphor of anchor words dragging your story down, in which case you want to get those anchors “away” from your story. I can tell you’re laughing on the inside.
email me if you get lost.
I live by the editing knife! Just yesterday I was knocking out a scene and I said to myself, just get it out, you can come back and cut it later if it’s no good.