I’m on page 99 of the sequel. C’mon, brain, just a little bit more! Let’s make it an even 100. That would make me feel accomplished.

I suspect I am a slow writer. Maybe not the very slowest ever, but slow. I’m not sure why, exactly, though perfectionistic tendencies run in the family and are always suspect. My son has a written-output LD, which he presumably got from somewhere.

But I think some of it, too, is that I don’t think optimally while sitting or standing still. I think better while walking, and I don’t just think it’s because my thoughts are freer without the pressure of having to write them down. I think motion gives me access to things that are hard to dredge up otherwise. Seriously, we should find a way for me to write while walking. A treadmill? A stationary bike? It’d be a great experiment, to see if I’m right or if it’s just an illusion (because it might be, certainly). And think how fit and healthy I’d get, if nothing else.

(I am now noticing myself fiddling with the wording of this post. It’s entirely possible that I’m nothing more than a chronic, undisciplined fiddler. Phooey.)