It’s November, and therefore it is National Novel Writing Month, which is a reason for the sudden dearth of activity on this scrappy little blog of low and variable attendance. NaNoWriMo, as it is called amongst those that choose to attempt it (being people of many words that somehow prefer brevity when referring to the activity itself), on its surface is a month wherein the participants put on their discipline pants and try to write a novelesque thing that measures in at 50,000 words or more. This usually takes the form of genre fiction, as the Great American Novel has a tendency of complexity which one can’t really afford while speeding through an average of 1,667 words a day. One would assume that most of these special humans are also working during this month, and eating, and sleeping. This is truly a heroic effort by those involved and with little real reward besides self-satisfaction and pride.
Anyway, back to us. Grant and Stephen are both doing some form of this challenge. I’ve decided that I could reasonably expect a poem a day from myself, a feat which pales in comparison to the definitive goal. I feel fine about my decision and have kept pace quite easily (though the quality is not always up to snuff). I’ve already completed the true goal two years in a row and was rather excited to sleep and eat and socialize this particular November. We’ve continued to meet up (mostly), and I’ve even accomplished spilling a good amount of beer all over the laptop I am now using (enter montage of prying up and cleaning all the keys on the laptop then reconstructing from photos). We’ve postponed challenges in order to focus on fulfilling our goals and critiquing each other’s work. And drinking beers. Plenty of beers.
We will soon be back to posting regularly, for those of you who care.
Further, here is a challenge to those who aren’t writing: Drink these winter beers.
Rain City Stories 