Writing is hard, rewarding, frustrating, exhilarating. A virtual chimera of emotions swirl through the process. But this week has made me realize what a gift it is to put keys to keyboard and words to the page.
Tuesday night, I slammed my thumb in the door of my car.
Buttoning jeans, brushing teeth, writing with one thumb tied behind my back have been special challenges. My WPM is down into the teens. This is a writer scraping bottom. But today, I have upgraded from bulky bandages to a shiny, clicky, splint.
As the world would have it, I had an idea blitz just around the time the worst of the pain subsided. I’m typing slower, more methodically. Thinking instead of blasting through my words. It’s the most amazing thing.
Being right-thumbless has improved the quality of what I am writing. Who knew?
Next week, I might just slam the left thumb in the door.
Or maybe not.