10 Ways to Trim Word Count
So, your first draft is a bit of a doorstopper… No shame here! My most recent manuscript came in at over 120k words when I finished the first draft. I was aiming for under 100k, so I know firsthand how hard it can be to get that word count down to where we want it. I did finally get it trimmed to about 99k words, but it felt at times like I was studying my manuscript at the microscopic level, picking out whatever I could without messing with the integrity of the overall story. When we get down to these nitty gritty things, it can help to go in with some guidance.
Agents and publishers tend to prefer manuscripts in the 80-100k range for most genres (unless you’re writing epic fantasy or sci-fi, in which case they might forgive the additional word count). Still, it’s always a good idea to show we can self-edit, tighten things up, and make every word earn its place in the story. It isn’t just about conforming to industry standards—it’s about clarity, pace, and making sure we’re staying focused.
I’ve put together a list of 10 things that help me when I need to trim words (which is often, as a serial overwriter), without losing the soul of my story:
1. Find and delete crutch and filler words.
Words like really, just, actually, that, and very are examples of words that tend to sneak in when I’m drafting quickly, and I know I’m not alone. They can sometimes have their place in our pages, but most of the time, they don’t add value. So, I like to do a search of my document and ask myself if the sentence still works without it. (Spoiler: it likely does.) I may be slightly embarrassed to admit it, but in my most recent manuscript, when I did a search for the word “really,” it yielded nearly 400 results. Yikes! I got it down to around 85, and each one of those felt necessary. But that was about 300 words cut right off the top, simply by deleting that one filler word.
2. Cut redundant phrasing.
This is one I learned early on, and it’s typically something I include in my first editing pass because it’s usually easy to spot. Look for phrases like “sit down,” “stand up,” “shrugged his shoulders,” or “nods his head.” Since shrugging and nodding are self-contained actions—you can’t shrug your knee or nod your fingers—we don’t need to specify. So we can tighten these up pretty easily rather than repeating the same concept.
3. Be willing to be ruthless with subplots.
This one stings, I know. But if a subplot isn’t pulling its weight, it may need to go. For instance, if it isn’t developing the main character, theme, or plot in a meaningful way, is it necessary? Sure, it may be fun or contain elements you want in the story, but can we move those things elsewhere? I recently removed an entire subplot from my manuscript and was able to trim over 5k words, even with folding critical information from those scenes into my stronger subplot. It hurt, but it worked, and my story didn’t suffer any overall damage from the cuts.
4. Streamline repetitive inner monologue.
Characters can spiral and get stuck on ideas or feelings. This makes sense, as human beings out here in the real world do the same, but it becomes distracting or even frustrating in fiction. I notice this most when I’m writing in first person, but it’s possible for inner thoughts to go rogue in any perspective. So, if your MC is thinking the same thing three different ways over the course of a few pages (or even a few chapters, honestly), pick the strongest phrasing and let it stand on its own. Trust yourself and your readers. You don’t need to repeat it to make it stick. I recently read a book where the MC thought basically the same thing so many times, I literally said aloud, “Okay, we get it!” We don’t want to do that to our readers.
5. Watch out for overwriting, especially in description.
This is probably where I trim the most in my early drafts. I love description, and as an autistic person I tend to get wrapped up in details that don’t matter in the slightest to the average person. While it’s important to paint a scene for people, we don’t need to spend three paragraphs describing the interior of a room our character is in for only that one scene. Or, do we really need to know every color of every flower in the field? Evocative description is great, but too much slows pace and bloats word count. For example, if we want to describe that field of flowers, instead of listing each individual type and color, we can reference a well-known or well-understood palette. This also makes our language more metaphorical than literal, which can be nice. So instead of describing the yellow tulips, magenta coneflowers, red blanket flowers, and the orange butterfly weed, we can say the field was a vivid, petaled sunset. Unless your character is a botanist, or they’re on a quest for a specific flower or something, the reader doesn’t need more than that, and including those extra details will not only add words, but may also be completely irrelevant. And when details are irrelevant, readers tend to gloss right over them anyway.
6. Combine characters or locations.
In my current manuscript, I had two characters that served similar purposes—they’re the best friends to one of my MC’s. The subplot I mentioned earlier that I cut? One of her best friends. I combined the traits into one person, and moved important scene elements and relationship dynamics into this new hybrid character. She now has one best friend and he does the heavy lifting he needs to. We can do the same with locations. Do you have two settings that don’t feel distinct? Consider merging them. Streamlining cast and geography can reduce clutter and make the story easier to follow, while helping us cut word count.
7. Trim dialogue tags and action beats.
If it’s clear who’s speaking, you don’t always need “he said” or “she asked.” Same goes for repetitive action beats. Your characters don’t need to sigh, smile, glance, or frown every time they talk. My characters sigh and smile—a lot—and that’s even after rounds of editing. But it’s something I’m working on. Trust your dialogue to carry emotion whenever possible, and use tags and action when it actually provides important information to the exchange.
8. Be willing to eliminate scenes that don’t push the story forward.
Ouch. I can’t tell you how many deleted scenes I have from any given manuscript, saved in my “cutting room floor” folders on my hard drive. Sometimes we write scenes that are lovely, but ultimately don’t advance plot, character, or stakes. So, ask yourself: If I cut this scene, would the story still make sense? If the answer is yes, it might be a candidate for the chopping block. But like I just mentioned, if it’s too painful to simply delete, create a folder of bonus material, deleted scenes, or beautiful prose so you still technically have them. Who knows, maybe they’ll be perfect for another project!
9. Choose words carefully.
This is my #1 biggest struggle as an overwriter, and I spend a lot of time on line edits for this very reason. Even after several rounds, my critique partners and editors find lots of opportunities for concision in my work, every time, without fail. This is on a word-by-word level. For example, instead of saying “He moved slowly down the hall, walking quietly so nobody would hear,” we can write simply “He crept.” One sharp, accurate word often can do the work of an entire phrase if we choose wisely.
10. Tighten sentence structure.
Like the last one, we can look for long, winding sentences that try to do too much. If we break them down into smaller ones, or cut filler words and rearrange for clarity, we can actually paint an even more accurate picture with our prose. For me, it helps most when I read my work out loud. My ears are able to catch the clunky bits my eyes often skip over by the time I’m line editing.
I think I want to wrap this up by saying, trimming word count isn’t just about meeting some arbitrary number. I mentioned industry standards at the beginning, and while those are important for people like me who are hoping to query agents, it’s more than that. It’s about refining our stories so they read cleaner, faster, and more powerfully. Sometimes we have to let go of elements we love—be that a favorite scene, a particularly beautiful description, or a beloved side character—but it’s in service of the bigger story we’re trying to tell. And the impact can be incredible! I was surprised by how much stronger this particular manuscript became once I really took the editorial shears to it. You may be, too. And hey, there’s always the deleted scenes section of your future website. Or Patreon. Or the fan wiki.
Happy writing (and slahsing)!
