Deleted Scenes

I miss the days of DVDs when you could watch deleted scenes and bloopers from movies. Some disks came with so many deleted scenes, it was almost like watching the whole movie over again. 

Ever wonder why film editors decide to remove certain bits, whether it’s simply about keeping the final production to a certain length or for some other reason? Have you ever watched a deleted scene that you thought made the whole story make more sense and should have been kept in?

The same happens with books.

If you’ve been paying attention, you know I’ve just released another book. What’s different about this one is that I’m self-publishing it, which greatly reduces the amount of time between my final revision (the point after which I can’t make any more changes) and the book’s release date. I had just sent out the manuscript to my pre-launch team members who agreed to read it before its release, post their reviews on launch day, and help me promote the book before and after that day.

The next morning, while stepping into the shower, I thought of a scene in the book that I’d written in the original draft but which I couldn’t remember seeing in my latest revision.

As soon as I could return to my desk, I compared the two. Sure enough, that scene appeared in the first but not the last version. I then recalled what had happened.

If you’re an author, you know that working with an editor can sometimes feel like dumping all the puzzle pieces out of the box onto a table and having your editor help you put it together in a way that improves the picture. My editor, Shari, had suggested, and I agreed, that my prologue needed to go. I pulled a few snippets from it that I deemed important, worked them into the main story, and deleted the rest.

But I’d missed one. This particular scene didn’t make or break the story, but it did make the ending far more logical. Because Shari and I had both read that bit, it was already in our minds. It just wasn’t on the page. Now, although the ending made great sense to both of us, it would be less meaningful for readers.

Isn’t that like life? We base everything we do, say, or decide on our limited knowledge or experience, and frequently on the opinions we’ve already formed. We communicate to others assuming they have the same information we do—which, of course, they almost never do. What makes sense to us may not necessarily be so obvious to the other person and we wonder what’s wrong with them.

I’m glad the final revision hadn’t been released and I was able to put that paragraph back into my book. I hope I can remember this experience going forward. May God use it to make me more patient and considerate. More clear in my explanations and more gracious in my expectations. More understanding when others “don’t get it.”

And when I’m the one who “doesn’t get it,” may I ask better questions instead of writing the other person off like a deleted scene.