One perennial piece of writing advice that I give is to read your works aloud. Hear the words, hear the rhythms, hear the alliteration and assonance, and the poetry of the language. Listen for choppiness and disjointed thoughts, for the clumsiness of language and the way sentences can draw out and become exhausting to read. It is a tremendously useful piece of advice.
So why do I so rarely follow it?
I know, it’s stupid. I was reading my work aloud tonight because I’m struggling a bit with this scene and have managed to get further through it. The happy surprise was that I liked it and it worked. But there was something missing and I filled in. But truly, it is an exceptional tool and I must not forget it. I don’t know why I do. It really is simple. I think it’s a time thing maybe. That I feel like it’s a waste. Or maybe it’s very strange to hear my own voice saying my words out loud. A weird embarrassment that is silly, since no one else can hear me read.