"I’d sit cross-legged in the box, filtering the sand over and over again through an old spaghetti strainer, getting rid of the sticks and leaves that had fallen, until it was almost as fine as right after he poured the sand from the bag. That was perfect sand."
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
I'm on record as being a slow writer. On a good, productive day, I write six-hundred words of fiction. I feel tense as I commit words to a sentence and then build sentences into a paragraph, but when I finally have that paragraph, I exhale. Then I start again.
Edited to add: Today was VERY productive - wrote 1,000+ words - up to 16,000!