I’ve been pondering a new story for the last little while. I’ve also been doing a rewrite on a different one, and here and there pausing to do those pesky duties like cooking, cleaning, paying bills, and entertaining my little family.
So as far as pondering goes, it’s time for me to be done. I need to stop thinking and start writing. If this was about mowing the lawn, thinking about it wouldn’t get me very far. I could think about going for a jog, but it wouldn’t burn any calories. Thinking about scrubbing the toilet isn’t much use, either. But when the work to be done is writing, there has to be some thinking time.
At least for me. Maybe because I’m the kind that writes pretty complete sentences (ones that don’t change too much from draft to draft) I feel like a lot of my process takes place inside my head. But once I get writing, I feel how much of that “mulling time” could have been better used by actually sitting down in front of a keyboard and pouring out a scene or a conversation or a chapter. Even if it would get the highlight-and-delete treatment later.
Writing, even writing something bad, is better than not writing at all.