07/05/2012 § Leave a comment
Last night, I had that moment when writing a paper where it just seems to crawl out of me. I easily reached half the page requirement, then, when it came time to apply some hard and dirty theory, I just tapped out. My brain was done. So, I let it simmer for a while, drew some things on my white board, let it brew, but these things have deadlines (Today, 12pm).
If I didn’t care about the paper, this task would be so much easier. I could just write a bunch of fluff that didn’t matter, just to fill up space. I could manipulate margins and font sizes fractionally. I could write long, convoluted sentences worthy of translations of Derrida.
I care, though, and just as I want my relationships to be genuine, I want my work to be genuine. So, I sat and waited, wrote fractions of a sentence at a time, trying to find the place where everything would come together.
I’m not sure I ever found it, but at about 3:30 am, I realized that I had hit the page requirement and had a paper which, while perhaps not fully realized, was not fluff.