Please forgive me for just a small, tiny, itsy bitsy rant.
This month is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo for those who get into it). The gist of the whole thing is that during the month of November you write a 50,000 word novel.
I actually thought about doing this myself. I changed my mind at 12:01 AM on November 1st. I have the greatest respect for those who are attempting this feat, however. Writing should always be encouraged, no matter what form the writing takes or how much of a dork the writer is. (Hence this blog.)
But I wish they could do it somewhere else. My little coffee shop has been filled up every day this month with frantically typing would-be novelists. You heard me bitch about the Beaujolais Nouveau thing, where us hard-core drinkers are displaced by hordes of tyros with functioning livers on the third Thursday in November. This coffee shop – my coffee shop – has been like that all month, sending me and Lucille, my laptop, into the desolate staging area where you stand and wait for a table with an outlet for hours on end, along with the other disgruntled regulars.
So I just need to say, “BACK OFF, NANOWRIMOFOS! I'm doing real writing and I do it 24/7/365, not one month a year!” (Not really “real writing,” it's a blog for chrissake, and not really "24/7/365", but you know what I mean.)
Okay, Hulles, put down the heavy ceramic mug and step away from the espresso machine....
There, I'm better now. Thank you.