cutting the other edge
National Novel Writing Month: the Growing Insanity
I just wrote seven thousand words in 4 1/2 hours.
Some gems include:
“We’re all pirates. And we all call ourselves the good guys.”
“Then my mind went dark, and slowly pictures began to surface in my mind’s eye, like fish swimming to the top of a pond—weird, grotesquely clored fish.”
“He put his hand on the knob again. As I stared, it glowed red, then melted into smoldering, smoking liquid, flowing through his fingers like mercury. It fell towards the floor, but vanished before it could burn the antique wood.”
“The room was stuffy and smelled like abandonment.”
“the little lavender slut boy think like he used to have befor ehe got married and stupid?”
“Well, iv’e written about three hindred words in threeminutes, which is obvs a hundred words a minute. And look at the remarkable job I have done of it so far. I would be a lovely secretary. She’s pretty, but can she type? No, absolutely not.”
***
That’s right, folks. I am currently triple-fisting Goldschlager, sweet tea, and a Starbucks Doubleshot espresso drink. And I have come dangerlolzy close to setting my hair on fire twice tonight.
Here’s a random photo of Kiss, just to be safe:
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