I love this time of year... sort of.
The weather turns all ominous and dark, except for the random heat waves.
The world slows down a little like it's catching it's breath, except work becomes so busy i can barely breathe.
A nice creative burst seems to hit me, except my PC exploded yesterday and I gots creative stuffs on there I need to get done!
So it goes...
That there NaNoWriMo thing is about to get underway again, I know how much my darling love looks forward to me hunched down in a dark corner cackling to myself all evening (Not sure how this is different from the rest of the year, but she seems to think so), and how much you all look forward to me spewing lots of stats!
This being my fourth year I have collected enough data to possibly become statistically interesting... I might post charts!
I am also going to begin my warmup today with a daily 10 minute wordspew and a daily submission to esspressostories http://espressostories.com/author_story_list.php?author=233
Here is the wordspew
There comes a time in every man's life that he must think about what he has done and come to one of two conclusions. The first is that he has failed and would better serve his fellow man by taking up shovel and pick and building a large wall in the wilderness. The second is that he has done OK, and he should go look for walls in the wilderness to knock over with a ridiculously large truck which he bought from that old man down the street who then went on to walk out of town sad and broken, carrying nothing but a shovel and a pick.
There may be other options, but none worth mentioning and certainly none which would be suited to a man of my stature and shoe size. For example one very confused young man who wasn't sure exactly how he was doing built a wall on top of a large truck, while another tried to build a truck using a pick and shovel... which is a very time consuming endeavor indeed!
This entire thing came about because in 1923 a man called Herbert Nightingale tried to breed his horse with a pear tree and was horribly horribly successful. Horse-Meat-Pears were all the rage at the nearby markets for nearly thirty minutes until someone actually bothered to take a terrifying and life altering bite and poor Herbert was pummeled to death with rotten tomatoes. Henry Walker who sold rotten peaches became very depressed and immediately took up shovel and pick and began trudging into the waste (which was at the time located fairly close to the old offramp, the one they tore down) leaving his misbegotten life behind him. Gerald Marlin on the other hand sold rotten tomatoes and, after a nasty bit of back and forth with the press over poor Mr. Nightingale, became very very wealthy and bought a rather large wagon.