With writing, either you get into a rhythm or you are trying too hard. Right now, I'm guilty of the latter. I call it being guilty becuase, it's not something you consciously do. It sort of just...happens.
There are sentences like:
Somewhere between the football field and the bicycle rack, I lost my wallet.
I typed it and thought, oh, yes, I can go somewhere with this sentence. It's simple but it has doors to it.
But then, here is what followed:
Its velcro strip was full of my sister’s Barbie’s hair and it wouldn’t stick like it should unless the wallet was practically empty.
So, I typed it which, standing alone would be interesting, perhaps humorous but, it stopped me...BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TOO HARD.
It makes sense to me looking back at it but I am sorely lacking in the editing department. For that reason, the paragraph of which those two sentences are a part, will likely remain where it is, out of place, dragging my story down and ultimately killing the piece altogether. Still, I can't delete them. Those words are original thoughts of mine and for now, while I ocnsider what to do with them, they will remain perfectly in tact until I come back to them when I'm not trying so hard anymore.