Type-Trash Is My Friend

I have a half an hour to write before I shoot out the door for the evening.

Well, after ruminating for a while I tossed my initial idea for the Three Minute Fiction out. I came up with a secondary story, sat down and began tapping away, intermittently back-spacing, cleaning up as I went along. My right hand was really getting rather sore with all the deleting I had to do. Writers always have that proverbial trash can nearby, hoop shots and slam dunks filling and overfilling it. But things have changed and in this day and age we hit backspace and erase over and over again. I have dubbed it type-trash, not wanting to let go completely of my old imagery.

I have written a full 528 of the allotted 600 words, leaving what I hoped was a decent amount of room for deleting, revising, and polishing off. But five full days have gone by and my thinker has been tinkering, and coming up with much more major changes than I'd expected. It's a good thing I still have another four days because a pretty sizeable shift in my scenario has developed. Ah well, I wasn't completely sold on Story Two anyway - and I knew it, but I figured anything was better than nothing.

Still do.