I write fast, because I have not the brains to write slow.
As the 19th century teetered into the 20th, the clank of typewriter keys went from solo to symphony. They were the weapon of choice for professional writers, the business elite, people with things to say and the need to say them quickly.
I'm trying to learn how to write faster.
I write quickly with a sense of urgency. I don't edit myself out of existence, meaning I'll try to write 50 or 60 pages before I start rereading, revising and editing. That just helps with my confidence.
One day I was speeding along at the typewriter, and my daughter - who was a child at the time - asked me, "Daddy, why are you writing so fast?" And I replied, "Because I want to see how the story turns out!
The faster you blurt, the more swiftly you write, the more honest you are.
There is no pleasure in the world like writing well and going fast. It's like nothing else. It's like a love affair, it goes on and on, and doesn't end in marriage. It's all courtship.
You can tell a lot in shorthand.
I'd much prefer to write more quickly.
I write fast. I'm one of the lucky ones.
Nobody believes this, but I write very fast.
There is no pleasure in the world like writing well and going fast.
He puts his right hand lightly on the cup, I put my left, leaving the right free to transcribe, and away we go. We get, oh, 500 to 600 words an hour. Better than gasoline.
I write fast, I write beautifully, I write convincingly.
I write very slowly.
I write pretty quickly. Write pretty fast. I was an old press service man. That was part of the necessity of that occupation.
