“I try to leave out the parts that people skip.”
A colleague sent me that line during a rough Thursday, with no greeting. I sat in a conference room, staring at a draft that felt swollen. Meanwhile, my inbox filled with “quick questions” that were never quick. I almost dismissed the quote as smug advice for people with time. However, when I reread my own page three, I noticed I had started skipping myself.
That moment pushed me to ask a different question. Where did this quote come from, exactly? Moreover, did the famous version match what the author actually said? As a result, the hunt leads through publishing lunches, quotation books, and a later, cleaner restatement.
Why this quote sticks with writers
Writers repeat this line because it names a private truth. Readers skip, even when they like you. Therefore, the quote gives permission to cut without guilt. It also sounds like craft advice and marketing advice at once. Additionally, it frames editing as empathy, not punishment.
The line works because it stays concrete. “Parts that people skip” feels observable and testable. For example, you can watch your own eyes drift on dense paragraphs. In contrast, most writing advice hides behind abstractions like “be clear.” This quote points to a simple outcome: keep the reader moving.
The quote also fits modern reading habits. People scan on phones, bounce between tabs, and skim newsletters. Consequently, the line travels well on social media and in classrooms. Still, the origin story matters, because attributions often drift over time.
The earliest known appearance: a publishing-world recollection
The earliest traceable appearance comes from the mid-1980s publishing scene. A trade publication ran a “talk” item that captured an anecdote about Elmore Leonard. The piece described a Book-of-the-Month Club luncheon and quoted Leonard speaking quietly. It recorded a version close to: “Yeah, I try to leave out the parts that people skip.”
That early report matters for two reasons. First, it places the quote in a real setting. Second, it shows conversational phrasing rather than polished aphorism. However, it also relies on someone’s memory and transcription. So, it gives strong evidence, yet it does not provide Leonard’s own written wording.
The anecdote also includes a telling detail: people praised Leonard’s pacing and dialogue. Therefore, the quote appears as a response to admiration, not a prepared slogan. It reads like a craftsman shrugging, then revealing a principle.
Historical context: why the 1980s publishing world amplified it
The 1980s book business rewarded page-turning genre fiction and strong author brands. Book clubs, chain stores, and mass-market paperbacks shaped wide readership. Consequently, editors and agents talked constantly about “pace” and “readability.”
In that environment, Leonard’s remark landed like a perfect summary of commercial craft. It also carried a contrarian edge. Many literary circles praised density and digression. Meanwhile, working writers often chased momentum and clarity.
The quote also spread because it sounded like insider wisdom. People love advice that feels overheard. Additionally, the line flatters the listener’s taste. It implies, “You skip too, and that’s normal.” As a result, the quote moved from luncheon chatter into printed epigraphs and quotation references.
How the quote moved into print: epigraphs and quotation books
After that early anecdote, the line appeared as a chapter epigraph in a 1986 guide for finding and working with literary agents. The author placed Leonard’s quote alongside a Somerset Maugham line about simple writing. That pairing framed Leonard as a champion of clarity.
Epigraph placement does important work. It treats the line as settled wisdom, not a one-off joke. Therefore, later writers could cite the book instead of the luncheon story. Additionally, quotation compilers love sources that already look “quote-ready.”
By 1988, a reviewer in an Associated Press piece used a shortened form: “I leave out the parts that people skip.” That version drops “try,” which makes the claim sound more absolute.
Also in 1988, a contemporary quotation reference listed Leonard’s line and pointed to an earlier book as support. That step further stabilized the wording and attribution.
How the quote evolved: from a shrug to a rule
The earliest remembered version includes a casual “Yeah,” plus “I try.” That phrasing sounds human and modest. However, as the line traveled, people streamlined it. They removed the filler and often removed “try.” Consequently, the quote turned from a habit into a boast.
This evolution happens to many quotes. People prefer lines that sound decisive and punchy. Additionally, short lines fit on posters, slides, and tweets. So, the quote gradually shifted toward maximal certainty.
Then, in 2001, Leonard published writing advice in a major newspaper. He included a numbered rule: “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.” He also explained what he meant by “thick paragraphs of prose” that feel wordy.
That 2001 version matters because Leonard wrote it himself. It also shows his preferred nuance. He kept “Try,” and he specified “readers tend to skip.” Therefore, the definitive form carries humility and a focus on reader behavior.
Variations and misattributions: Leonard, but not always cleanly
Most versions still credit Elmore Leonard, and that credit usually holds. Yet the surrounding story often shifts. Some retellings claim an “aspiring novelist” asked for the secret of success. Others place it in a classroom, an interview, or a bar. However, the earliest traceable setting points to a publishing luncheon anecdote.
Attribution can also blur because people remember the messenger more than the author. The anecdote circulated through publishing professionals and writers who repeated it. Consequently, some readers credit the person who told the story, not Leonard.
You may also see confusion around names attached to the earliest printed account. A trade item credited a specific columnist, while the memory inside the item came from another person. Therefore, casual retellings sometimes swap who “said” what.
Still, Leonard’s 2001 essay anchors the quote’s authenticity. It confirms the core idea in Leonard’s own voice. Moreover, it shows he had thought about the rule for years.
Elmore Leonard’s life and views: why he cared about skipping
Leonard built a career on lean prose, sharp dialogue, and forward motion. He wrote crime fiction and thrillers that many readers describe as fast and conversational. Therefore, the quote matches the style people associate with his books.
He also distrusted “writerly” performance. Source In that same 2001 advice list, he summed up his rules with a blunt test: if it sounds like writing, he rewrites it. That mindset explains the skipping principle. Additionally, it frames revision as removing ego from the page.
Leonard’s approach also respects the reader’s time. He did not ask readers to earn the story through effort. Instead, he tried to make the story feel inevitable. Consequently, “leave out the parts” becomes a moral stance, not just a technique.
Cultural impact: how one line became a modern editing mantra
This quote now lives in writing workshops, editorial newsletters, and content marketing playbooks. Source Teachers use it to explain pacing without shaming students. Meanwhile, editors use it to justify cutting beloved tangents.
The line also fits the rise of minimalist style guides. Many modern guides stress clarity, concrete language, and fewer fillers. Therefore, the quote works as a one-sentence gateway into deeper craft lessons. It also travels across mediums, from novels to blog posts.
However, the quote can mislead when people apply it blindly. Not every “skipped” section deserves deletion. For example, some readers skip description because they feel impatient, not because the prose fails. So, the better takeaway asks you to earn every paragraph, not to starve the story.
Modern usage: how to apply the rule without flattening your voice
Start by finding your real “skip zones.” First, read your draft out loud and note where you rush. Next, watch for throat-clearing intros, long scene setup, and summary that repeats. Additionally, look for paragraphs that explain what the next paragraph shows.
Then cut with intention, not panic. Replace vague explanation with a specific image or action. For example, swap “He felt nervous about the meeting” for a hand tapping a glass. Consequently, you keep meaning while increasing movement.
Also, keep “try” in the quote. That single word protects your voice. It reminds you that revision stays iterative. Moreover, it leaves room for deliberate slowness when the story needs it.
If you write nonfiction, apply the rule to structure. Put the payoff earlier, then support it with proof. Use subheads, bullets, and short paragraphs to guide scanning. Additionally, trim repeated qualifiers and stacked preambles.
Finally, test your edits with a real reader. Ask where they drifted, not where they felt “bored.” That language reduces defensiveness and improves feedback. As a result, you learn what people actually skip.
Conclusion: the real origin, and the real point
“I try to leave out the parts that people skip” traces back to an 1980s publishing-world recollection and then solidifies through repeated print appearances. Later, Elmore Leonard himself published a close variant in 2001, and that version confirms the core idea. Therefore, you can credit Leonard with confidence, while still noting that early wording came through reported memory.
More importantly, the quote endures because it treats readers as partners. It asks you to notice where attention breaks, then revise with care. Additionally, it invites humility through that small word “try.” If you keep that spirit, you will cut less out of fear and more out of respect.