The tortoise & hare fable makes a good illustration of style differences between writers. I’ve ranted on word counts and productivity worship enough times that I don’t need to do it again. But it’s awfully satisfying to get the frustration off my chest. So I’m going at it today. Again.
It’s okay to move along. I know, I’m stomping on a crowd favorite. I might as well kick a puppy. But I wouldn’t do that.
I am a tortoise when it comes to writing long works, especially fiction. The concept of drafting fast just to be done so I can go back and re-write the whole draft mades me ill at heart. I despise the pressure of having a measuring tool chasing me along, breathing down my neck, turning every creative effort into a competitive event. More! Faster! Finish line! Eyes on the PRIZE!
It works for many. I do not dismiss the value of being a hare. But. But. BUT. I cannot be one, and I have no desire to work against my essential nature for the sake of fitting in. (There’s a fable about that topic too. It doesn’t end well.)
I am going to continue to toddle along at my slow unsteady way (ever watched a tortoise walk? They always appear one mis-step away from disaster, and yet they seldom actually tip over.) and I will be done when I am done.
Remember who won the race in that tortoise & hare fable? Yeah. I think I will do okay.
In the long run.
Tea: Irish Breakfast
Steeped: 6 min