One thing I’ve noticed over the past few years is I’m getting slower when running. And despite knowing this fact, I can’t change it.
Trying to push myself to go faster is like lead weight in my veins. My legs feel heavy, solid, and at their limit.
I’ve noticed the same pattern with my writing lately.
It used to be easy and I could bang out words with no problem. But lately it’s like my running: slow, clunky, and not going away.
A lot more effort is required to get the work done. More thinking through the story problem, more corrections, and more rewrites. I’ll think I’ve nailed a page and by the next day I’ve rewritten it twenty times.
I wonder if this is because I’m pickier about the words. The last book was clunky and I want to make sure we don’t repeat ourselves. But I also spend more time considering the motivations, details, and connections going on in the story and trying to make them clear and truthful,
Anyways, not much else to say about this. It’s only an observation of something I never had really worried about.
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