Starting is always the hardest part.

My agent likes my book (title now in flux), but says it is too long for its market.  And I mean far too long. It is about the same length as my previous books, which seems to be my natural length, around 100-110K words.  YA should be more like 80K. 

And she's right, both for this market, and in general. Most books should be way shorter than they are.  I say that myself, frequently. So why have I been so reluctant to savagely cut my own work? Because all of my words are so great? Do I really want to sell this thing?

You can tell I'm psyching myself up.  I have a couple of long car rides this weekend (elder child checking out McGill), and hope to make a dent in it.  This is where someone close to me and familiar with the text would be a big help, but my spouse never reads anything I am working on, and is only reluctantly persuaded to take a look after it is published.  A considerate, literate spouse with a ruthless streak would be a big help.

Killing your darlings is one thing, but contemplating darling genocide is another level of writerly hell. But this is whining. I am alone with this book. I'll let you know if I survive my struggle with it.