It had been a long time since I wrote a short story. I use to write all the time, especially for my kids. I thought it was going to be something that I could easily pick up, kind of like riding a bike right? Yeah, that's right. It is more complicated than this. Sure, the thoughts were there, my will power had diminished, so why was it so difficult for me to write?
My thoughts were all over the place. It was as though my thoughts were coming at me faster than my hands could type. It wasn't like it was back in the good ole days when people used pen and paper and you kind of had no choice but to slow down. Nope, this was putting fingers to keyboard and the words weren't being put down like I had wanted them to be.
I took a second to look back at my work and I was disgusted. I had actually written that? I must be tired, hungry, or something. Nothing made sense.
During all of this all I could think of was, boy I sure am glad that I didn't publish this before reading it. I'm also glad that I didn't have my handy readers read this before I did. What an embarrassment.
I was in a constant wind tunnel with myself when it came to writing; I'm always trying to write as much as possible in so little time.
If you take anything away from this personal experience of mine, it is to make sure that your thoughts are flowing well. If the page, book, article, poem, or whatever it is you are writing, doesn't flow well, meaning the clarity is gone, you might be in a bit of a pickle with your audience.
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