Since I do very little thinking, I try to make up for it with a lot of feeling. I suppose I do my fair share. Oh, wouldn't I love to have more control over all of it!
Words? I don't love 'em. I surely won't waste my time struggling with them. I suppose I write because I'm desperate, or near desperate, to communicate. Now, I won't argue with a real writer who wads up sheets of paper and throws them in some wastebasket like a Jimmy Stewart character in an old black and white movie on TCM.
I've never fought with anyone called an editor for cleaning up my mess. I have ignored orders for "two hundred more words." When a story is told, I'm done. Use a bigger picture.