Dirty Old Thoughts on Writing

Bukowski may well have written this way. For all his boozing, the man was a word machine and really cranked it out. He never even kept copies of his early poems, just sending out the originals back when submissions were via snail mail. I've written stream-of-consciousness and I've written drunk. And I've written in large houses and small apartments with lots of money and none. I don't know how he did it without rewrites, though I suspect there may've been a few.

h/t: opchidexo
Nevertheless, as a challenge, I sat down yesterday and cranked out a story of 1492 words - about six pages - exploring facades and the importance of respecting them when you have little else. I let the words pour out, typing as fast as I could, with no side trips to the Web. I did read it over and rewrite small sections, mostly trimming unnecessary words. Then I sent it out to an anthology. The whole process took about five hours.

I haven't read it over today and I'm not going to. Let's see how this one sails. Alas, I learned how much I can get done if I don't procrastinate. And I'll explore that lesson some day.