Sometimes it's really hard to write things because you are so busy not writing other things. It's like the things you are specifically not writing take up so much space in your brain there is no room for any other words to be created, let alone come out.
And other times, all the stuff you are busy not writing shuts its big fat mouth long enough for you to carve out the two thousand words you needed to reach today's goal.
Luckily, I chose to NaNoWriMo this morning, when paragraph two was an option.
Unfortunately, I am trying to write this post this evening, when my only option seems to be paragraph A.
So all you get is some blather about stuff I can't/don't want/know how to talk about, and a note that I previously today have written well (Honestly, it's a historical dream sequence and so far I like it better than the entire rest of the novel. So, come December I might decide that my actual book takes place in Boston circa the fall of 1918, just in time for the Spanish Flu pandemic. But for right now, that's just my ghosts' back story. Yes: ghosts is supposed to be plural, because, better than halfway through the month I have suddenly decided that there wasn't enough peril in my plot and added a bad ghost to antagonize the good ghost and her friends. Don't even ask me. I think my brain is rebelling. The story is never going to end.)
OK, I'm going to go now, that I ... just said a lot of things and didn't say other things. Happy Monday, everybody. Less than two weeks to go here.
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