Writing Slow

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“You write uncommonly fast!”

No, not I. I have two writing quirks. The first is that I am a SLOW. I like slow writing because I honestly believe it’s like slow cooking as opposed to fast food. The results are more satisfying for the writer and the reader. I stir my sauces at a low heat for a long time and my stories are the same. I don’t know that I actually finish fewer works than I would otherwise, but there certainly is a penalty. I put in many hours into what I write and I spend all afternoon, most days of the week, at my desk.

I’ve never participated in that popular contest to write a novel in the time it takes to build an Ikea deck chair, either. (That’s another thing I’ve never done, nor plan to.) I just don’t understand why a sensible person would strive to do it. Imagine wearing a button to say “I wrote a novel very, very quickly. Why don’t you give me $29.95 for a copy?”

My second writing quirk drives some people crazy. I make up words. Don’t worry. My book, The Apportioner’s Counsel, Saying I Do or I Don’t With Your Eyes Open, has only two MOWs out of the 33,000. Most of my inventions are just sounds—as in threll-thud-ka-dunc, the sound of a wheeled suitcase going down a sidewalk. I did make up a verb for that book, too: awn. When you blink, two things happen to your eyelids. They flick and awn. I’ve used it again since in a poem, which was published with no questions from editor of Depth Insights. Let’s face it, if a word is immediately understood, then it was ready to be invented.

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