What I'm Listening To: Alexander Rybak - Dolphin
What I'm Doing: Writing - fanfics, admittedly, but better than nothing.
Although this new-found habit of mine will undoubtedly stand me in good stead while writing and revising, at the moment it's new enough to be a nuisance.
I finished a particularly well-written fic, and suddenly wanted to write more of my own. I'd left off with this:
Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the other's bedroom and made himself busy in the kitchen.
Looking at it, I was thinking, "he's making tea. What does one do when you make tea in an unfamiliar flat?"
Poke through all the cabinets, of course. I added:
Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops,
and then stopped there and stared at it.
Why is he making a ton of noise? He's afraid that his partner is going to kill him and stash his body somewhere, so why is he making enough noise to cover up the sounds of someone sneaking up behind him?
It drew me up short for a moment, and I found myself unable to continue until I'd answered the question. He's afraid. This satisfied my inner critic, and I continued the paragraph as:
Deliberately, he let the cupboards crash closed and the mugs clink onto the countertops, releasing the nervous tension he'd been feeling since arriving on the other man's doorstep.
Will this make me a better writer? Indubitably. Will it irritate the hell out of me, stopping myself every few paragraphs to make sure I'm explaining it to my own satisfaction? It's inevitable.