Well, one of many reasons, but I think this one is close to being the main one.
I'm a private drafter. I go crazy-secretive when I'm first-drafting something, otherwise it does NOT get finished. I know this about myself, about my process. The very act of admitting I'm working on something new, let alone if I give specifics of any sort, makes me
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I should report that I awoke with a stern, Swiss-grandmother voice in my head that pointed out that inherent evils in whining and not DOING.
Ah, Swiss grandmothers, they haunt.
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I would just have you know that when I read "private drafter," my brain filled in drafter for money! Draft what you want me to draft!
I gift this thought to you.
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Er, thank you.
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This is kind of fascinating, since you *do* have a different sort of job in addition, and you actually are just fine at writing about that job. I wonder if the difference is due to the sort of sort, or if it's because writing is closer to your heart, or because in your novelist career you use up your writing mojo in the sort of writing that *is* the job, or what.
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But the dayjob does not lend itself to flow or any other weird fugue states.
But I also do not write explicitly about what it's like to clear a queue in ILLiad, or exactly how one hunts down a misbanded book, or... for one thing, those things are technical writing in a way, and BLEAH.
Also, I knew what I meant when I wrote that sentence last night, but I'm not clear on it right now. :) A common thing for me.
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Can you ever read your stuff as if you were a stranger? As if you weren't you, but just a reader? I find that if I haven't read my own stuff for a while, I can come to it with the "oh! a story!" mentality. And then I can see the jarring lines or the huh? what-does-that-even-mean lines. Some of them anyway.
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*sigh* :)
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