I am probably too fond of the phrase, "sturdy vagrants and masterless men."
There is this thing where you can stare at a manuscript for six bloody hours and write 200 words. And suddenly the dam breaks and you get 1500 words in 45 minutes. And the weirdest part is that I'm reasonably sure that the six bloody hours of blood-sweating is what produces that 1500 words.
Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full
Of the wars' surfeits to go rove with one
That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate.
--William Shakespeare, Coriolanus, Act IV, scene i
I want to master Dar William's level of telling detail. Or maybe that of Leonard Cohen. But damn, these songwriters, they can do some shit.
Reason for stopping: end of scene