The Aftermath

NaNo is over. Which… doesn’t really mean much for me.

You may have figured this out by now, I’m sure I must have let it slip sometime during the past month, but I sat NaNo out this year. And you know what? I’m okay with that.

I kept a full schedule with a second job involving technical writing. I spent time with friends. I watched some TV. I even read a couple of books.

I didn’t get much sleep though. So that part of NaNo still existed. And now I’m moving on to the aftermath. What happens after November ends?

December begins–or so I’ve been told. I think Kansas didn’t get the memo. It has been unseasonably warm.

The problem with the mood swings of Kansas is that I get sick.

The problem with not enough sleep is that I get sick.

Right now I’m rapid-chugging some vitamin C in hopes of beating the odds. I’ll let you know how that goes. (But you probably won’t hear about it for several weeks).

At the age of six, Eliza was certain of two things. The first was that she had stories to tell. The second was that she had no talent for illustrating them herself. Talent or no, she still wrote and illustrated her first book, one that should be located and locked away if only to prevent her parents from embarrassing her terribly by showing it off alongside baby pictures. Now she spends her days writing stories that she isn't embarrassed to show off after a little bit of polishing.


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