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?