Unfortunately, writing is not car racing.
After an unplanned month off the race track and parked in the parents’
garage, the authorial vehicle can not just be revved up to a full and
thunderous start, roaring out of the old homestead’s driveway chasing the
finish line at an all-out, reckless speed.
For me, writing is more like running. A full head of steam on the
pavement after a month’s absence from the sport promises nothing but shin
splints, groin pulls and ACL nasties.
“Slow but sure” may not win
the race, but it will finish the
race.
Sometimes, that has to be enough.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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