Well, it's NaNoWriMo. The scourage of everyone who will come into contact with me this November, and a time where, hopefully, I'll fall in love with the page, and write something I won't be ashamed to call my own. I'm going to take my characters, my babies, and put them out onto cold, unforgiving paper where I won't be able to watch them like I have before. It's time for them to learn to stand on their own, and break bones as they learn to fly. It'll be hard, perhaps perposterously so, but I'm going to write a novel this month, and I'm going to have the time of my life doing it.
(Sure beats the hell out of smearing peanut better on walls.)