The Art of Mourning Your Work

Every creative person—be it a filmmaker, writer, or artist—faces that gut-wrenching moment when they realize a beloved piece of their work has to go. It’s not just a scene, a shot, or a line of dialogue. It’s something you birthed, nurtured, obsessed over. You fought for it. You may have spent hours writing it, days planning it, weeks bringing it to life. Maybe it even cost a ridiculous chunk of the budget. And now? Now you’re being told it doesn’t serve the story. That it has to go.

Cue the stages of grief.

First, there’s denial. “No, no, no, this scene is crucial! It adds depth! It shows character development! It has the most beautiful lighting we’ve ever achieved!”

Then, anger. “How dare anyone suggest cutting it?! Do they know what it took to get that shot? Do they know the blood, sweat, and caffeine that went into making that moment sing?”

Bargaining is next. “Maybe if we just trim it? Maybe if we move it earlier in the film? Maybe if we rework the pacing?”

Then the depression. “This film is ruined. I am ruined. I’ll never create anything worthwhile again. What’s the point of art?”

And finally, acceptance.

The brutal truth is this: as creators, we are often too close to our work to see it clearly. We love it because we lived it. But the audience doesn’t have that attachment. They’re experiencing it fresh, without the behind-the-scenes struggle. And what matters most is how they feel, not how we feel about the process of making it.

Are they engaged? Do they cry when you want them to cry? Do they laugh at the right moments? Or worse—do they laugh when they should be crying?

This is why editing is not just a technical skill, but an art. It’s a ruthless, heartbreaking, necessary art. It requires stepping outside of yourself, detaching from your personal investment, and watching your work through the eyes of an outsider. A good editor doesn’t just tighten a film; they sculpt it into its best, most potent form. And that sometimes means sacrificing what you love most for the sake of what the work truly needs.

So, yes, cutting a scene can feel like mourning. But here’s the silver lining: every creative loss makes way for something stronger. The finished product—the leaner, sharper, more impactful version of your vision—will thank you for it. And so will your audience.