The Cursor

There’s that little, nervous blinking on the monitor. It waits. It demands. As a computer scientist, I feed it logic. As an author, I feed it stories. The problem is the same in both cases: Sometimes you stare back, and your head is as empty as the text field.

You ask yourself: Are the cryptic characters I’m typing here brilliant or total nonsense? Does the syntax fit? Is the tone right? The truth is: You won’t know until it’s there. The cursor has no patience, and I’ve decided not to have any either. No more hesitating. I’ll just type away. Fixing errors—whether bugs or plot holes—is something that can always be done later.