Writing what’s on my mind? That shouldn’t be hard. Not with my imagination. I don’t think it turns off, or goes to sleep, or takes a holiday. It’s always there. On. Ready to go.
But not editing?!?!
I have a quiet editor, not too bossy, not too loud when I’m writing. But when the laptop lid snaps closed, the editor comes on and, in a quiet, concise way, starts organizing what needs fixing. Tidying. Rewriting.
And then the reading over what I’ve just writing (like I’m doing now). And the backspace. Come on, I hit the backspace more than any other button on my keyboard. And I’m frantically watching the clock, wondering how you can squeeze so many words out in such a short time. Practise? I guess Februrary, doing this every second dday I’ll get the hang of it. If not, then you know I am not a stream of consciousness writer.
But my imagination comes in a stream of consciousness.
A stream. A never ending stream.
I’m still watching the clock and those seconds zooming by.
As long as I keep my quiet editor (nosey editor) away from my imagination, I think writing will never be a problem. I think the words will always pour out.
Because when you see a leaf, it’s not just a leaf. It came from somewhere. It has a story. Man, I can’t believe I chose the word “leaf”. Not what I mean. Everythign has a story. My clock is leaving me for dead.
Imagination. I have too much. But not leaf like.
Five Minutes. Stop.
PS Now you see why I need to edit? Next time, I promise, I’ll stop looking at those seconds flashing passed.