runcible spoon

Where DO nuns get their necessities?

For a while, I was intrigued by those meta-crawlers that allow you to see what sort of search terms are being plugged into the Net second-by-second. Voyeuristically fascinating.

Now I have something better: the Character & Plot Realism Q&A over at NaNoWriMo.

This stuff is like crack.

I kid you not: there are folks over there asking questions like 'Where do nuns get their daily necessities?', 'What's a concussion feel like?', 'What does a dead animal smell of?' and 'How can I  realistically depict a sea-based society of women?'

They get the goods in response, too. There's a whole lotta people in this world who've either been concussed, smelt rotting whales, or know how nuns go about their business - and they want to share that knowledge. Fantastic!

One response to the dead animal question really sums it up, somehow. CM suggests:

If anyone sees you sniffing the dead dog on the side of the road just say, "It's okay, I'm a writer!"

Avoidance, procrastination, etc

About that Novel Writing Thing. Yeah, that one.

I'm going to do it.

50, 000 words. One month. One wedding (not mine). One pack-up-the-house-and-move (mine).

Oh my, I feel an attack of the vapours coming on already.

Seriously, it's phenomenally scary. It's amazing just how frightening  words on a page (or the fear of them not being on the page) can be.

This way madness lies

I am dabbling with the idea of madness.

DABBLING, I said. I haven't decided to undertake this thing as yet.

NaNoWriMo:

November begins. You write incessantly, fulled only by hubris, caffeine and fear. You produce a 50, 000 word "short novel". Month ends. You have a novel written.