On the opposite of flow.
One of the things that is appealing about writing is getting into that mental state where the words are coming effortlessly, without your having to think too hard about it. That moment where you are lost in the work, and have no awareness of the ticking clock or the buzzing fly. Just you and the work. Beautiful. Zen.
Unfortunately, flow is also a state where you can produce an endless amount of crap. Flow, by its nature, circumvents the editor on your shoulder who hates every other word you write. Now, often the editor on your shoulder will keep you from writing if you let her, so you have to find a way to shut her up. One way is to just get into flow, where she can’t follow you.
On the other hand, the editor on your shoulder is often right. That is crap, and you need to do better.
Here’s the thing: practice does not make perfect (this is something we learn in martial arts). Perfect practice makes perfect. That is to say, if you practice a sloppy kick ten thousand times, all you’ve learned how to do is kick in a sloppy way. That is not mastery. It’s not even competence.
So the problem with flow is that it can be sloppy, and not in an organic, generative way where you can make something of it. It can be a form of masturbation. And while you may enjoy that, no one else really wants to see it.
When you’re doing the work, you need to be able to do the work even without flow. Even with the editor on your shoulder criticizing every third word. Even when it’s just no fun at all.