I was about a mile into my hike of Hunt Fish Falls at Wilson’s Creek when I realized something: I wasn’t there for my usual reasons - pain, masochism, exercise, big views - but simply to get away from distractions and process. I need to process everything that’s happened in my life in the past week, and that meant write. So I wrote for 7 hours in my hammock next to a stream while the light faded and the fireflies glittered in the treetops.

All that writing wasn’t for naught; but now I just need another 7 hours to revise.


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