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I often think of blind Milton, whom I envison as lying in bed dictating his epic poetry to a scribe. How on earth could someone create any kind of literature that way? Presumably it was read back to him and he made revisions, but still...Not meaning to compare myself with Milton, but I do strive very hard to get it as close to right as possible the first time. Not that I do, of course. The main effect on me of always being in Edit mode has been that I've produced very little.
On the other hand, I feel impatient when somebody sends me a draft for comments and it's full of dumb mistakes.



If I was a Monkey, I would throw myself Peanuts as Positive Reinforcement; alas it is not as Motivating when used as Monetary Currency.