House

As Thanksgiving ends, the weather chills, people begin drinking more egg nog than should be legal, and Santa crosses the square in the middle of the Macey's Thanksgiving Day Parade, I begin to think about Christmas.

Now, at this stage in the holiday season, I begin trying to list who I'll be buying presents for, and what they'll be getting. For most people, it won't be material. For the people I care about the most, we'll, they'll end up dying in a short story.

See, I must back track first. One of the best writers of my life time, [though she is in fact a bit older than I am.] Laurel K. Hamilton once said that the highest compliment she can give to someone is to kill them off.

Basically, I think the same way. Sort of. It's either they die, or they're the killer.
The more gruesome the kills, the more respect I have for them. Or I just like them more.

So, I either begin a series of creepy stories, and hand them out, or I make homemade cards.

Which are dumb.

Stories it is.
Or a book.
Or maybe dinner and a movie on me. Take your pick.

What You're Looking For

"I like eyes." Something an ex of mine told me one time. As we continued to talk, she asked me what I 'Fell' for.
"Things? Talents? Stuff?"

I couldn't think of how to phrase it. I know now though. I fall in love more and more with people when they do more things.

Like, it goes like this: My best friend is an incredible writer, can play tuba like no ones business, is magnificent on a piano, and can make me laugh without ever trying.
Sean: He pwns n00bs like no one knows.
Ashley: Has a wonderful singing voice.
Brittney: Is in love with her life. Band Captain. All those kind of things.
Beth: She's jumped two feet first into helping out the A21 campaign since Catalyst when she heard Christine Caines testimony. [A campaign to end human trafficking in the 21st century.] We even had a mini-strategy meeting today over our Subway to figure out ways to get donations for the group.

They are all giant dorks, and I love them because they loves what they do.

I love to know that people are passionate. I never know how to say it.

But in my mind, passion fuels life.
What is there in life, if not a purpose?

"Passion... it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us... passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank... without passion, we'd be truly dead." [Yes, I really do try to incorporate as much Buffy into as many posts as possible. And, I win.]


He who enjoys doing and enjoys what he has done is happy.
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe -

ARTIST: LIZZIE RUSSO

DAILYBOOTHIN.

The Clot.

I'm six days in. and a few thousand words behind. My little NaNo counter thingy says that I am going to finish on December 22nd if I keep up at the rate I'm going at. I can do this.

However, I have been doing my dishes more. And mowing. That seems to help. And, I'm rewatching Buffy season 7. [Personally, season six is my favorite. Jus' sayin'.]

And, I found a new tennis ball, so Kota loves me more.

See the reason for The Clot is when I write I have one rule: Let the characters take over. And I did. I let the story envelope me. And, in my mind the story changed from the thing I originally spent hours and hours painstakingly planning out.

So, now my plot has no ending.

This is one of those times where I have to let it envelope me to find a plot.
I'm gonna trust Joey for the moment. And, I might post an excerpt of aforementioned attempted novel tomorrow evening. Pending the time when I get home.

Off to write.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 5836
ARTIST: DAVE DAYS