I'm in the process of editing an old novel of mine which I had not revisited for years. It's exciting because it's like reading the writing of a stranger (well, not really; a little exaggeration there). When I read it through for the first time after all these years, I was elated by some surprises yet embarrassed by more than a few instances of poor writing. The saving grace is that I wrote a lot, 85,000 words. Then I took out the chainsaw and started to hack away the dead branches, metaphorically speaking. As of this point, it's down to 66,000 words. I think I can get it closer to 60,000 and still have a fine story to tell.