For the next 10 minutes I will write without rest. I have no clue what I have brought on upon myself, nor do I know what will be the results. Into the unknown I leap.
I remember that it was in 8th grade that I learned this exercise. I hated it. Part of me was intreagued by it. It’s unpleasant. As a writer, you’re on eternal search for the “right word.” You look constantly for the perfect note to use in your masterpiece. Free writing destroys that – or attempts to.
It is a terrible treatment. It feels unnatural…forced…contrived. Initially.
After some practice – and that’s a gross understatement – taking this approach, or rather, this exercise becomes second nature. Although not truly free writing, my style of blogging is very similar. The difference: I do not usually force myself to write for a given period of time. Therefore, I am somewhat used to this.
This time, it is slightly different than usual. For this post, I am writing continuously for 10 minutes. Continuously blathering on. Continuously writing nonsense. Continuously writing words. Continuously this, continuously that. Rambling on and on. No end in sight.
I will stop. That is BS. I will try to stop.
As I jot down these rambling words, it is currently 5:20 pm. I have already published 1 blog post today, and have finished another. This is my second free write.
I am absolutely on fire. Creatively, that is. It’s actually annoying…annoying that sometimes I am productive as hell – whatever tha is supposed to mean – while other times it is nearly impossible for me to write.
The words flow
The words flow onwards, like the Amazon snakes its way through the lush rainforest. It flows on. They flow on. They flow on, but not as long. Thankfully!
Before writing this – a good 20 minutes before – I was low. Lows are great, aren’t they? No? Great! You’re sane!