Don’t feel bad for not doing NaNoWriMo, okay?

Larry the Cat in his unicorn horn is just beautiful.


Because I don’t do it either.

For those who think I’m having a stroke and just putting random syllables together, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. The idea is that you take the month of November to hitch up your pants, dig in your heels, get down in the trenches, and write a 50,000-word novel (hopefully using significantly less clichéd phrases than I just did).

Or part of a novel. Or a novella. Or whatever you want, really – the idea is that it at least gets you writing, provides you with a community of others who are doing the same, and gives you an incentive/goal/kick in the aforementionedly-hitched-up-pants. Which for many people is a good thing. A great thing, even!

But it’s not for me.

It’s not that I can’t write 50,000 words in a month. I can, and I have. It’s not the speed I prefer to…

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