Writing to me is like
a very intricate corn maze. I stand outside of the maze without fear of getting
lost and thinking this will be a piece of cake. I take my initial step into the
maze, around the first corner I quickly start feeling confused, I come to an
intersection do I take a right or a left. I don’t stop to think about where I
am within this maze; I just start moving out of instanced going as fast as I
can. I have to force myself to stop and try to remember where I have been. Then
I have to do a little backtracking this is when I recognize I have to take it a
little slower. It isn’t about how fast I get out of the maze it’s about taken
the right path. I have to choose the most effective way through so I’m not
always having to turn around and going back to the beginning. But when I do get
to the end no matter how long it takes I feel a sense of accomplishment.
I hate mazes! I'm always tempted to bull my way through or climb up on someone's shoulders to find my way out. If I thought writing was a maze, I'd be bumming!
ReplyDeleteTo me, writing is like coming into a dark room with a powerful flashlight. I snap it on, see what I want, and head directly towards it. I don't know what I think or what I'll see til I sit down at the keyboard and snap on the flashlight, but once I have the flashlight going, I'm pedal to the metal.