And so ends National Novel Writing Month 2007.
It's hard to celebrate things you do on the sneak.
I haven't really told my family--who I was hiding out from most of Thanksgiving--that I wrote anything, you know, because, they might think I'm done and maybe want to see it, and I have flashbacks to 1984 then--when I stopped writing on paper--and I just don't want to go there until I have the whole first draft done. It's not done, there's a huge gap in the middle where important stuff happens, and I know what happens, but I just haven't written it down yet. So basically everyone thinks I'm slacking off and have been avoiding everything. Much like how I never mentioned I had a comic strip until late 2005. Much like how I prefer playing a synth because it has the headphone jack. I really ought to get a paper bag to put over my head and write, "Don't look at me!" on it.
Oh poo, I'm going into writing withdrawl. :(