I write a tiny poem, decide to share it in a blog, spend ages writing a description of the tiny poem for the blog, agonise over one word in the tiny poem, find the perfect word, tell myself to stop dithering, post the poem, immediately look again at the poem and add a comma and a full stop, chide myself for concentrating so hard on one word that I neglected the punctuation. Go to a meeting, come back from the meeting, look at the tiny poem, see the word in all its dullness and think No! After all that hunting through the thesaurus, being sure I had it, I chose the wrong word! Another much better word pops straight into my head. I’m cautious this time. Has this new word been sent to fool me into a false sense of security? Wait. Do something else. Look again at the tiny poem. Have a meal. Look again at the tiny poem. Go to bed thinking, if I still like the new word tomorrow, it’s in. Next day, edit the tiny poem (about sausages, for goodness sake!) to include the new word.
Is it really that important? Yes it is. The tiny poem is no masterpiece, but I will not leave it languishing with the wrong word. In fact the first word I chose was ‘languish’, which then became ‘beefy’. If you really care about my tiny poem and the difference one word can make, you could go back and look at the shiny new word. You may think Pah! Why did she bother? You may not look at all, having far better things to do, or you may be a poet who knows exactly what I’ve been going through.