Lessons learned one recent frenzy-filled month

Hey, I did that thing! You know, that thing where you set yourself up with an impossible task and then you’re really bitchy to your family and neglect your work and health and all the household chores for a whole month while you get it done?

No, silly, not Christmas. Guess again.

I wrote fifty thousand and some words for National Novel Writing Month. And I’m still nowhere close to being done with the actual novel, so no, you can’t read it. But I have the cutest outfit picked out for my photo on the book jacket.

And since my brain is a big pile of goobers after that, you’re going to get a list for today’s blog:

Stuff I discovered while neglecting everything else for NaNoWriMo:

I live with supportive people. Today Colin told me he had to come up with an epilogue for a book they read in class and he enjoyed writing creatively. “I can see why you do it,” he said.

“My working title is The Vinyl Hound,” Mike said. “It’s a character study about a dog made of vinyl, who wants to be an astronaut.”

“I swear to God, you need to promise you’re not going to say that, or I won’t sit by you.”

Kind of a lame threat, but all I had.

This was on our way to a kick off for National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo (which always makes me think of Mork and “nanoo, nanoo,” but whatever). It’s the latest thing for which we’ve signed up but don’t actually have time, and it’s also the only way I’d be caught in a Fuddruckers on a Saturday night.

Or on pretty much any night, for that matter.

Mike’s signed up because of a story that’s been burning a hole in his brain for much of his adult life having to do with growing up in Central Idaho. Actually, given the propensity of very small towns for more crazy per capita than anywhere else, he probably has several such stories.