I’m very writer-y, but not always very talker-y. When I write, I tip myself upside down, shaking my thoughts loose from the nooks and crannies they’ve wedged into. I empty my brain’s pockets of all the angst I’ve stuffed deep inside. Then I begin to slowly work through the jumbled pile, organizing and editing as I go. In sifting through the debris on the page, keeping what makes good sense while letting the rest go, I end up with a neatly packaged bundle of words finally fit for consumption.
But when I talk, especially when I’m ill-prepared, I’ve been known to stutter. I ramble on and on and on and on and on and on. I become unnecessarily repetitive in an effort to get my point across. The right words to fully express what I’m thinking often elude me.