It’s hard to let go of the scenes you fell in love with.
I had to cut out the very scene that started TUBE. It was a real nightmare, of course, that started it. Most of my books start with nightmares. And the nightmare was an image. I was sitting on a train looking out, and outside spread a snowy plain, and on it were clumps of hair, clumps of women’s hair, and wolves. Howling wolves. I woke up in cold sweat, and today I had to chop the whole thing off. It no longer fits the story.