Overwritten

It's just as well that I haven't been able to knit for the last few days. Setting the needles aside allowed me to concentrate on writing movie reviews for the show we taped tonight. Considering how quickly the day passed, it's good that I wasn't trying to bang out the reviews at the office. Plus, having them in hand made me feel a lot less stressed.

The move at work put the show on the back burner for months. (We're still not on our regular schedule.) Without deadlines looming every two weeks, I got out of the habit of writing. I don't think I'm an especially fast writer--each entry here is probably nurtured for an hour minimum--and trying to think of things to say when I'm not certain the words are there doesn't help matters.

That said, I'm generally happy with the four reviews I wrote this weekend. I can be extremely self-critical, so that's high praise for myself. It pained me to cut down the online versions for TV, which means that I didn't feel like they were padded out to fill space or time to meet the appearance of proper full-length reviews. I hope that there are a few novel observations and clever turns of phrase. I pray that the pieces aren't as mechanical as they often seem to me.

Here's a secret: I worry that I'm a hack. Truth be told, I'm sure I have been in the past and will be so on future occasions. Ideally those instances are exceptions more often than not. I look at what I wrote this weekend and think that maybe I know what I'm doing. I'd love to be brilliant, but I'll settle for being merely good. Does this recent output achieve that? I'm not sure, but I'm not embarrassed to have my name attached to it.

Anyway, the point I was working toward is that I've used up my allotment of words for the day. I'm tired after some long work hours and weary looking at those that are ahead. Thankfully, they are a renewable resource. Back with more tomorrow. Maybe I'll find some time to knit. These are precious days to be losing so close to Christmas.