posted on Monday
(I just cannot imagine why.)
But it’s true. Using a hatchet is just like writing.
No, no, no–I don’t mean the part where errant CEs get hold of your work or the typesetting process accidentally–well, you don’t even want to know. That’s more like weedwhacking.
I mean the part where you choose between working or letting it happen.
Okay, you’d think: Pick up the hatchet…aim it…hit something with it.
It’s: Pick up the hatchet, aim it, and let it hit something.
The hatchet does the work, you see. If you let it.
Okay, mostly. You gotta give it some swing, but it’s not a mighty man-grunt swing. It’s just lining things up to happen and then providing some momentum. And if you try too hard? You get cramps in your forearm, and in your hand, and the blade doesn’t ever bite deep. It skids off the wood, or it takes these bitty little hacky chips. You get in your own way.
So, writing. You try too hard, you over-think it, and your brain starts to steam. The words don’t work well with each other. They don’t bite deep. You get in your own way.
Just gotta line yourself up and let it go.
Is that too profound, or what?
(But where would we be without pictures of the agility yard process?)