BWAHAHA

After quite the most annoying mini-depression today O.o

I'VE DONE IT!

My words have returned.

In full force.

And now I'm REALLY DROWNING.

Although not quite.

So if you read this...

give me a mannerism, quirk, or silly WHATEVER that ANY person could EVER have! I need to make a bizarre character, but not without your help =P Hey, I may be famous one day, or publish this novel, and you'll read it and go YEAH THAT WAS MY IDEA OH YEAH WIN BABY!

Or not.

But even so! I'd veryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy much appreciate it.

The word count is moving quicklyyyyy

but not quickly enough.

TA TA FOR NOW

We're On Our Way

Hey guys

so yeah, my last post was like - dun dun dun - depressingly poetic/epic fail, but oh well.

NaNo's not turning out how I wanted it to, but I'm pulling through this, sitting in my cold basement with freezing fingers and a headache trying to put all the ideas in my head into one piece of work

and failing.

3,500 words as of now, roughly.

cheer me on.

and, I need names, characters, mainly. Give me a name, some random mannerisms and quirks and perhaps features and I'll use them somehow. It would help immensely. You can't write a story without characters.

and at this point - I need lots.

NEVER ALONE!
Shae =P

The Call of NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo once again approaches...

its fangs bared, ready to sink in my brain and latch onto all my ideas and remaining sanity that I've stored up in the past 11 months since it left me to die last year...

its claws stretching, reaching, not having to go too far before they find me and guide my fingers across these keys over, and over again... never stopping, never relenting...

its a massive shadow looming above me, a raincloud that will last for 30 days. the rain has not yet begun.

and here I wait, under a scraggly tree... whose branches are too small and weak to shade me from its harsh downpour...

it's calling me already, tugging at my mind and forcing it to bring forth ideas that have lied there for too long,

frightening, terrifying,

a black hole, draining my energy.

and my mind that has been caught up in poetry for the past two months now is forced to don a new mindset, one of prose and words and words and words after words after words.

I will be soaked, drowned in those words. I will be cold, drained of sanity and inspiration. And I will be silent.

writing.

though my mind screams.

care to be in my novel?