This morning’s “writing” consisted of removing about 400 words and rearranging a handful of the remaining sentences.
It was a section I had written on a piece of left-brained abstraction. What I found was that I had some very powerful ideas but that there were both too many competing concepts and that I had said the same thing about three ways. Way overexplained, especially for a moment that is more texture than anything.
The exercise just struck me as an odd quirk of writing, that sometimes progress can’t be measured in word count–at least not for those like me who mingle the revision and the drafting process. Which, for better or for worse, I do and have always done. Perhaps it has something to do with my ADD, that if I see a problem I have to fix it then because I might not see the problem later and then it won’t get fixed, and the thought of it not getting fixed will gnaw at me the same as an unresearched detail, so that it’s easier to just do it and move on.
Hm. This bears further thinking about. If it’s true, though, good grief, amazing that I ever finish anything. Assuming I ever do finish anything else…. 🙂