I wanna get happy about already having almost 3000 words, but... some of them are notes I've made to myself. The thing is, I put them in on a later page, and then when I get to a particular note, I use it as a writing prompt for that particular section of the story. Does that count? Ack...

Marshmallow Peeps: Harbingers of Doom for the Human Race?

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand;
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again: but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Yeah, it's like that today. Day One of NaNoWriMo so far. Just. Like. That.

And so it begins...

Okay, so I got comments working and have started to post links to other nanoblogs - if anyone wants to cross-link with me, just lemme know - I'll be your link whore, baby!

Happily attended the LA Kick-Off at Barbara's at the Brewery last night and met a slew of folks who are as nutso facto as I am - everyone was nice and funny and kudos to Cybele, our beloved Moderator, who not only got Bedhead to score us a great place to eat and drink and bemoan our cursed fates, but went balls-out Martha on us and carved an amazing NaNoWriMo pumpkin. With bats and everything! I not only got to meet the other InkGirl (and an alleged InkBoyz), I also learned all kinds of things about the botanical properties of gin from Cybele, who was a great hostess and gracious and a good sport as our conversation degenerated into rampant mockery (yay Fred!) of anything more than one of us could focus on at the same time. Oh, and in a studio next door there was a pumpkin slaughterhouse - much beauteous carving had been done and there was fire in gourds, which is always compelling for me, so I cruised over and played mystery woman while I checked that out too. Ahh, a good night. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, much like those pumpkins.