So, You Call Yourself a Writer
Let me see if I can quickly paint an accurate picture of your writing process
You are in your ideal workspace.
And it’s set to perfection. The lights, the heat, the ambient noise, the smell — everything is exactly how it should be.
Listening to some binaural beats or some instrumental jazz or some baroque music on your headphones, you are ready to get some serious writing done.
There is an idea in your head, and it’s crying to be released.
You sit down, take a deep breath, and start typing away as fast as you can because you are going berserk just by keeping those ideas in your head. You heed its cries and agree that it needs to find a new home other than that mushy matter inside your skulls.
And for a second, things are going swimmingly— and you are so proud of yourself, as you damn well should.
Words are flowing, sentences are forming, paragraphs are emerging.
The Muse is looking kindly upon you today.
Until it doesn't.
Nine and a quarter sentence into your high-spirited typing frenzy, a neural entanglement sets in, throwing you and your…
