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Week two started with an interesting revelation: My brain is a sponge. Writing is what happens when that sponge gets squeezed. This was supposed to be a simple, straight forward time travel story. It has expanded to includet mythological figures, redneck vigilantes, healthy doses of game theory, and the ghost of Marshal MacLuhan leaning over my shoulder . . . → Read More: No man is an island, but some of us are sponges. #nanowrimo One of those days that you have managed to scrounge the perfect amount of covers from your loved one, and scrunched them around your sleeping self in a configuration that creates the perfect body temperature. You’re cozy. Even your feet are warm. The comfort level is so optimal, you would gladly accept a catheter if it would . . . → Read More: It’s One of Those Days #nanowrimo Yes, I did steal this title post from a Black Sabbath song. Good for you for recognizing it. With National Novel Writing Month mere days away, a specter of fear and foolishness casts a long shadow across my hearth. Alas, this specter shall be no match for my hale and hearty army of provisions, resources, and outright . . . → Read More: What is this that stands before me? |
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