“Was not their mistake once more bred of the life of slavery that they had been living?—a life which was always looking upon everything, except mankind, animate and inanimate—‘nature,’ as people used to call it—as one thing, and mankind as another, it was natural to people thinking in this way, that they should try to make ‘nature’ their slave, since they thought ‘nature’ was something outside them” — William Morris
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Hmmmm . . . . I suppose I could TYPE 1000 words in 30 minutes. There was a time when I could crank out more or less coherent prose at that rate, though I doubt it was publisheable. But the circumstances were peculiar. I was being Dante to my Beatrice and so was writing to, or perhaps AT, her. I've never since been able to crank it out like that.
These days my rate varies widely. Sometimes I can manage 1000 or 2000 words in two or three hours. But not usually. Sometimes it takes blood to crank out 500 words in two hours. It all depends on lots of things.
And I've got 40 years of accumulated this that and the other from which to write.
What I'm wondering, Tim, if you don't mind me bringing it up, is what effect your prodigious word count has on those graduate students who are still in a sweat over the dissertation prospectus, not to mention the dissertation itself. You might want to assure them that that kind of productivity is not necessary. I mean, C.L. Barber precipitated in minor revolution in Shakespeare studies with one book, Shakespeare's Festive Comedy, of a modest 263 pages (don't know the word count). OTOH, how much of Harold Bloom's prodigious output will be read 20 years after his demise? The Anxiety of Influence perhaps? Bits and pieces here and there, but the bulk of it?
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