This is the general purpose Nanowrimo thread... Here should go any news about your novel, how it's going, the mad life of writing at least 1666.6(repeating) words a day, and the problems inherent to reaching in the metaphysical hat of noveling and pulling something out.
And also the horrible, horrible pain. It should come around the second week.
Anyway- Good luck to all!
Full Version: Nanowrimo
bwahahaa 
yes, I'm doing NaNoWriMo
although 'doing' is kinda a strong word, let's go with 'attempting' that works.
Here's mah beginning::
Well, more or less. Certainly dark, the clouds obscured every star and the moon, or even the suggestion of a celestial glow. The storm needed confidence counseling, the rain was vicious or noisy, the thunder was halfhearted and depressed and the lightning wouldn’t have lit up a string of holiday lights. But it could work on it…
The man looked out of the small stained glass window, the glass staining the panorama a maroon. However anticlimactic the weather was, the room looked like something from an author’s overused imagination. The fire crackled in the fire place, casting weird shadows across the murky room. He turned back to the fire, poking it with the poker (so aptly named). Still letting the fire illuminate his features he flipped his pocket watch open, the glowing embers giving the silver timepiece a ruby sheen.
“You know Tanya,” he said with the infinite air of a casual actor used to their own success, “it all makes sense now, doesn’t it. Einstein had it so right. Power…” With the word came a predatory flash across his eyes and he licked his lips before continuing, “Power or energy can’t be created or destroyed, just moved or changed. Take Caesar, Rome’s great emperor, the moment he lay on the Senate floor with many stab wounds, Rome degenerated into former allies seeking the elusive power over Rome. It only took a Neanderthal strike two of the right rocks together, and now humanity burn through forests left and right. Power is a fluid thing, always flowing from one person to… another.” He left the last word hanging in the air, and finally took his eyes of the fire.
He had places to go, people to meet, things to do, et cetera et cetera. But it had been a good little speech, he mused. Now if only he had thought of it before he had killed her...
yes, I'm doing NaNoWriMoalthough 'doing' is kinda a strong word, let's go with 'attempting' that works.
Here's mah beginning::
Well, more or less. Certainly dark, the clouds obscured every star and the moon, or even the suggestion of a celestial glow. The storm needed confidence counseling, the rain was vicious or noisy, the thunder was halfhearted and depressed and the lightning wouldn’t have lit up a string of holiday lights. But it could work on it…
The man looked out of the small stained glass window, the glass staining the panorama a maroon. However anticlimactic the weather was, the room looked like something from an author’s overused imagination. The fire crackled in the fire place, casting weird shadows across the murky room. He turned back to the fire, poking it with the poker (so aptly named). Still letting the fire illuminate his features he flipped his pocket watch open, the glowing embers giving the silver timepiece a ruby sheen.
“You know Tanya,” he said with the infinite air of a casual actor used to their own success, “it all makes sense now, doesn’t it. Einstein had it so right. Power…” With the word came a predatory flash across his eyes and he licked his lips before continuing, “Power or energy can’t be created or destroyed, just moved or changed. Take Caesar, Rome’s great emperor, the moment he lay on the Senate floor with many stab wounds, Rome degenerated into former allies seeking the elusive power over Rome. It only took a Neanderthal strike two of the right rocks together, and now humanity burn through forests left and right. Power is a fluid thing, always flowing from one person to… another.” He left the last word hanging in the air, and finally took his eyes of the fire.
He had places to go, people to meet, things to do, et cetera et cetera. But it had been a good little speech, he mused. Now if only he had thought of it before he had killed her...