Life in exile...
Why is it reading other writer's blogs makes me feel cooler?
So. I'm sitting here in Panera, trying to come up with the inspiration to finish this year's bit of wondrous verbosity. I have all sorts of methods for this, but sadly none of them really work in public. I'm fairly sure if I start debating the plot of my Space-Western with myself in Panera someone is going to call State Mental Health, or whatever they call it here in VA.
See, in my own head I'm still just that strange girl that has to remind herself not to carry on imaginary conversations when she's around other people. Who used to sit in the bathroom (even at school) and sing made-up songs until it drove my mother crazy. Who's pretty much always had a better vocabulary than anyone I know. Who always wins at Trivial Pursuit unless my father is playing. I've always been strange (obviously) and I never had the personality to angst over it, so I just accepted it and moved on.
I've been trolling blogs of other writers, and wasting time on Twitter (and LJ obviously). Trying to get myself flowing again. I found Neil Gaiman's blog, and somewhere between the "there are post-it notes telling me what art used to be here" and "Look at this awesome book I got from Marvel that weighs 15lbs" it struck me that probably the reason I'm so addicted to Nano isn't the actual writing, but the fact that for the month of November I feel so much less weird than I do the rest of my life.
So. Raising my virtual glass too all of you out there in cyberspace, and here in Nova who ride along with me. To weirdness and joy.