Yesterday I wrote and wrote and wrote. It felt as if I was pulling every word from the very depths of the dictionary and placing them carefully in each sentence. I struggled with each paragraph and every page. After three hours, I walked away from the computer. Watched a very bizarre movie. Came back. Deleted the same twelve pages I'd sweated over all morning and began again. This time, the words were there. And even though I only had time to splash about a thousand of them onto the screen, I felt satisfied. And this morning they read well.
What did I learn? I write like crap when I force myself. Go with the flow, baby.