The Discipline of Looking Twice

Delayed Seeing

Most people read the way they walk through a crowded street—quickly, defensively, eager to arrive somewhere else.

But literature does not reward speed. It rewards return.

This morning I reread a paragraph I had written yesterday. The first time, I was pleased with it. It had the correct rhythm. It sounded intelligent. It had the right kind of restraint.

But on the second reading, I saw what I had avoided.

The paragraph had no centre.

It was elegant, yes—but it was evasive. It circled its subject without touching it. It was writing that wanted to appear thoughtful without risking truth.

This is why looking twice is not merely a technique. It is a form of honesty.

The first glance is always contaminated by intention.
The second glance is closer to reality.

When you reread your own work, you are no longer writing—you are witnessing. And witnessing changes everything.

The Monroe Minute

Read one paragraph twice before moving on. On the second pass, ask: What is this really trying to say?

Until the next page,
Sloane S. Monroe

Sloane S. Monroe

Sloane Shay Monroe

I don’t write to idealize love, but to explore it honestly, with emotional precision and depth.