When I woke up Cuplxz was standing over me. You ok? he asked. Yeah. My head was throbbing. Uuuuuuhhhhhh my head. What happened? I asked. Remember? Giant. Oh yeah I remembered the sword coming at me for what felt like forever. Where are we? My place Cuplxz said.
Eventually, of course, we all must gut our precious manuscripts, cull them with the cold precision of a razors edge. Long before that, however, perhaps the most productive thing we can do as writers is untether ourselves from our self imposed editorial restraints and let our hands run free, bounding over the page like a child's bantam feet racing across the sand.