Sometimes I write scenes I know I’m going to have to scrap later. But writing them imperfectly...

Sometimes I write scenes I know I’m going to have to scrap later. But writing them imperfectly seems to be the only way I can get to the right scene, and the only way I know to smash through the walls of “writer’s block”. Each tap of my keys and I’m tearing down another brick.

Sometimes I find these moments exciting. I wonder, when I ever get to the point where I just write a novel straight through, if it won’t be fun anymore?