People sometimes have problems hitting page or word count goals on essays, but my problem has consistently been the opposite. I’ve gutted more essays than I can count, taken literal scissors to them to cut them down to size. The essays always come out much stronger, much better written if I begin by ballooning out and end by cutting out all that is irrelevant.

The written word helps me process what is happening in life. The written slows me down, grounds me, and makes the world real. Without writing, my brain flits too quickly and too unpredictably to remember what is real and what isn’t. With writing, my brain continues to flit about so quickly that sometimes I still lose my spot, and another idea is forever lost in space.

Yes, more people would listen to me if I learned to edit before writing a massive essay and chopping it back to a verbal tweet. Yes, more people might read my writing if I kept things short and sweet. As things stand however, my writing as an art form is certainly more developed than it might have been otherwise. So I don’t bemoan my own idiosyncrasies, though I do acknowledge that there are communication strategies I would benefit from in the capitalistic, nearly post-apocalyptic, world outside my door.