Everyone knows a Sunday driver—they drive slow in the slow lane, even slower in the fast lane, and count to 7 before accelerating through a red-light-turned-green. Sunday drivers are stressful for everyone, except, it would seem, the drivers themselves. They seem perfectly relaxed, unconcerned about timing and traffic. There’s something to learn from them, if there’s time to pause in the rush and learn it.
The journey is half of the destination package; it is meant to be enjoyed, not rushed through.
It’s hard not to write in a hurry. When there’s a point to make—a message to get across—it’s easy to fly through the introduction and the meat of the work, just to reach the conclusion; the final drive. This discredits the reader. Part of the thrill of the punchline in a long joke is the tedious description and buildup. A well written piece is effective because of the congruity and flow throughout, even if it takes time to write and read. If it’s rushed or incomplete, it loses attention in some cases and respect in most.
Writing like a Sunday driver is hard. It takes careful planning, intentionality, and practice; and self-control. It’s especially easy to rush ahead without regard to structure and timing, but if you can take the time to cultivate something, to write it clean and smooth, it is effective long past initial publication. It will stand the test of time and changing styles, because it stood the test of ‘hurry.’
Sunday driving does make the journey better, too; if not in the process, maybe in retrospect.