Like a lot of things in my life lately, this post is 9 days late. Still, it’s the thought that counts, right?
This was going to be my “Why I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year” post. But reading posts like that over the years, I’ve noticed that it seems difficult for me to write one without looking like a condescending jerk.
This isn’t where I’m going to turn up my nose at the NaNo, or go into my rationalization of why it just doesn’t fit in with my writing goals right now. I only bring it up now because, despite my resolve to not even fool myself into thinking it was a possibility this year, I reupped my account anyway and found out that somehow, some of my peeps found and added me to their friends list.
So, to them: You do your thing!!
Of course, the best part of reupping my account: the pep talks from famous writers in my email box. I squeed when I saw Aimee Bender’s!
Dude. Men aren't supposed to squee.
(Don't tell anyone, but I did, just a little and only on the inside, when I saw Stephen R. Donaldson signing books at WFC.)
Please ignore the stuff in parens in the preceding paragraphs. It's clearly an aside and of no practical use whatsoever.