bellascribe

My excuse in advance for the little upkeep I imagine there to be here. This year I am doing it (along with my s.o. who is also writerly), Nanowrimo — writing a novel in a month (November). Desperate measures for desperate times. Three days into National Novel Writing Month, I’m feeling as I suspected I’d feel, annoyed at myself, peeved that I can’t seem to get the work done without resorting to extreme measures. (Extreme defined: Writing six pages (fiction) a day after months of nothing.) Annoyed, peeved, anxious, tortured, and perversely glad. Because I am writing.