Here’s (one of) my dirty little secret(s): I love writing, but I love Twitter more. Or maybe more accurately, writing’s hard and Twitter’s easy; therefore I prefer to tweet. Not as elegant as Kant, but true.
Those of you who use it know that Twitter’s the quick fix, the crack high. It provides an instantaneous rush of approval from getting your insightful, well-crafted 140 characters repeated (and thus validated) by others.
Whereas writing (for me, for now, anyway) is a long slog, the addict’s sobriety. And I think that’s the real point of this post. Admitting I have a problem. A Twitter addiction.
In order to finish this book I’m going to have to cut back – probably way back – on my tweet time, and this pains me very, very much. But ultimately it pains me more to think that I won’t finish this book ever, or at least for a very long time. The first finished draft of Dead SULs is begging me to put it out of its mercy. And so I must, and I will.