Stare at a Blank Screen

One of the biggest mistakes I consistently make is to try to sit down and type words directly from my head into the computer (you might recognize this activity as that which normal people call "writing"). Generally, for first-draft fiction, I dictate into a microcassette recorder; this allows me to get the words from my brain into a neutral holding facility without allowing me to second-guess them until later, when I'm transcribing. Otherwise, I'll no sooner type a subordinate phrase without wondering if it communicates anything, if it communicates too much, if it moves the story forward, if it reveals character, if there's any point to the whole exercise, and if I shouldn't just give the whole thing up and start watching Fear Factor in my newly spare time. Result: gridlock.

Last night, due to peevishness and sloth, I dictated 486 words instead of my usual thousand and change. I thought, in the naivete to which I so desperately cling, that when I got to the transcription stage I would become inspired and meet my thousand-word goal. It goes without saying that I was wrong about this. I extracted another thirty words as though I was paying cash for them, and called it quits.

Word Count: 23,560 (+516)