Write Fast. Read Slow: The Art of Purposeful Speeds

I write fast

Diane Stewart, a brilliant English teacher and colleague who has long retired once said that “such and such (I’m not brave enough to name the writer she mentioned) is a good writer but his editor is better.” That made me laugh, but that also gave me reason to write—Like. A. Savage. Since having co-authored four books and an additional solo endeavor I have come to write fast and a lot. My frenzied word dumps may have been the result of trying to do it all while still working full-time as a teacher and busying myself with a life outside of the writer and work realm.

A brave stream of consciousness starts most of my stories and then I just let go. Full steam ahead. I reread my drafts slowly. There is never a shortage of words. Good? I don’t know. Maybe?

I read slow

I think a lot of people read quickly. I don’t. I go very slowly. Very. Slowly. A long while ago a friend asked why I read so slowly. I told him that while I read I picture everything. EVERYTHING. Like a movie, right down to the wallpaper, the accessories on the bookshelf, the view out the window. I have never read any other way. His reply stunned me. “Well, that’s a waste of time.” I didn’t sass back because I wasn’t sure what to say. What do other people do when they read? Are they just words? No pictures? Feelings? Understanding without images—weird. I didn’t and still don’t get any other way to read than the way my brain does it.

The fast-slow combo is helpful

Because my brain works a lot like a television screen creating scenes quickly I feel like my job as a storyteller is to transcribe what I see—that’s the fast part. When I re-read and edit—that’s the slow part. I’d like to say that it’s a perfect marriage of fast and slow but compared to what? I don’t know any differently. And, well, that’s okay. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a Ferrari and sometimes it’s a horse and buggy.

As always, thank you for reading Lovelies.