How to edit by cutting the 10% that gets in the way

The first draft is for thinking, not publishing

A common mistake is expecting the first draft to be clear, useful, and ready to publish straight away. That rarely happens. A first draft mixes the idea, the search for tone, the mental loops, and a few sentences you only wrote to get moving.

That is why writing and editing need to be separate jobs. When you write, you put material on the page. When you edit, you choose. If you try to do both at once, you slow yourself down before you have understood what you were trying to say.

The 10% rule works because it gives you one concrete question to ask of the text. It does not ask whether you like the draft. It does not ask whether it sounds nice. It asks what can disappear without making the piece weaker.

That question is especially useful for posts on X, LinkedIn, or a blog. Readers do not only leave because they are uninterested. Often they leave because they have to push through too much writing before they reach the idea.

Cut the warm-up before anything else

The warm-up is everything you write before you dare to say what you came to say. It often sounds reasonable, polite, and correct, but it delays the opening. In a post, that delay costs you.

Look for the first paragraph that contains a real claim. Many times it is not at the beginning. It is in the third or fourth sentence. When you find it, try starting there. If the piece gets better, the earlier lines were scaffolding.

Phrases like “in today’s world,” “it’s becoming increasingly important,” or “we all know that” rarely add much. They prepare the ground, but the reader did not come to watch you prepare the ground. They came to understand an idea.

A good opening does not have to be aggressive or clever. It has to place the problem or the promise clearly. If you are writing about editing, start by talking about editing. If you are defending a rule, put the rule near the top and then prove it.

Remove repetitions that look like nuance

Repetition is not always bad. Sometimes an idea needs to come back in a different shape so it lands. The problem appears when two sentences do the same job and the second one adds no new precision.

A simple way to catch this is to read each paragraph and ask what changes if you remove the second sentence. If the paragraph still says the same thing, that sentence is extra. If the tone changes but the meaning does not, it may still be extra.

Repetition slips in more easily when the idea began as something spoken. When we talk, we circle the point, come back to it, try a different word, and finish the thought more than once. That is natural. Capturing ideas by talking can be a good way to avoid losing them when they arrive in the middle of something else. Yapto is built around that flow: you record the idea, then turn it into a draft you can review. But before anything goes public, spoken rhythm usually needs pruning.

Do not confuse your voice with leaving everything in. Your writing style is not found in every detour. It is in how you see the idea, how you order it, and which words you choose. Editing does not flatten your voice. It removes interference.

Be suspicious of filler adverbs

Adverbs are not the enemy. The problem is the adverbs that enter the sentence to compensate for weak writing. Words like “really,” “clearly,” “simply,” “totally,” and “basically” often deserve a second look.

If you write “this is really important,” try removing “really.” If the sentence loses strength, the adverb may not be the real problem. The problem may be that you have not explained why the thing matters. Good editing does more than delete. It shows you where the writing needs more precision.

The same applies to intensifiers like “very,” “a lot,” and “quite.” Sometimes they are useful. Often they are a sign that you need a better verb, a more concrete example, or a less vague sentence.

You do not need to turn every piece into dry instruction. Warmth and clean writing can live together. You can sound human without filling every line with crutches.

Remove the ending if it only repeats the post

Many pieces end with an automatic summary of what they have already said. It looks useful, but it often reads like an administrative goodbye. The reader has understood the point, and then the writer packages it up again.

Before closing with “to sum up” or “in conclusion,” ask whether the ending adds anything. It might add a consequence, a practical question, or a sentence that leaves the reader with a decision to make. If it only lists what came before, cut it.

A useful ending can be short. After a post about editing, you do not need to repeat that you should cut warm-up, repetition, and filler. You can leave the reader with one action: open your latest draft and remove one word in every ten.

That is the value of the rule. It does not require inspiration, a free afternoon, or turning yourself into a professional editor. It gives you one concrete move to improve something you have already written.

Frequently asked questions