Last week my youngest had a birthday. Piled among the gifts was a car from his Nana---a Lighting McQueen that will run on it's own after it's been shaken. Perfect gift for a two year old, right? Especially for a little boy who loves engines like my guy does.
He's been roaming around the house with it clutched in his hand, driving it around, and basically having the time of his life. Every time I catch him with it though, I have to laugh. The wheels are spinning on their own, but he's still holding the car as tight as he can.
I kept telling him, "You have to let the car go." I eased it out of his hands and placed it on the floor, demonstrating the full potential of the toy. Yet, he still insists on driving it himself.
It only took me a couple of tries to realize he had to figure it out on his own, and I couldn't help him unless he wanted to be helped.
The experience made me stop and think. What am I holding onto that would work better if I just let it run?
Since I'm sitting here writing this post, I'm sure you can imagine my thoughts led me to writing.
I like to think I can be funny from time to time in my stories, or least I try to be. In fact, it's those silly/embarrassing moments I like to write the best. So when it comes time to edit, those are the scenes I have the hardest time letting go.
Problem is, all of my wit---no matter how funny---might not serve the story. I cling to my favorite parts the same way my son clings to his toy car. Sure, I can drive the story myself, but how much faster might it go if I let it fly?
Who knows, hidden potential might be found in a cut scene. I just have to remind myself that it's okay to let go.