Thank you mister placeholder. Quiet time’s over folks (or folk I might say, since I imagine I’m the only one checking this anymore).

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Sorry. Just warming up. Haven’t done this in a while. Blog sure is a weird word.

Today’s topic is words, so hang on to your alphabetic hat, here they come. First of all, thank you whoever I should be thanking. God, I’m guessing. Gratitude is the attitude around my digs lately. What a November. One to always remember and treasure.

Don’t know if you know this, but I’m an artist. That is the main thing about me that I feel is true. Except I don’t get paid for it so I’m not really an artist, I’m just artistic, at least according to whoever is in charge of the accordances.

So an artist or artist sort of person has many experiences in this life, some artistical, some not quite so much, depending on one’s point of view, mostly, since one can be artistic about anything – if you’re in the mood for it, have a little fancypants going on. Once wrote a poem called “My Turds are Green, It Must be Spring”. Not sure how very artistic it was, but it did rhyme. And few things in our modern age are more artistic than poop, that’s for sure.

Anyway, November was NaNoWriMo. I had never heard of it before, but now it is emblazoned on my soul in flowers. And I like flowers, kind of old fashioned that way. Thank goodness for nanowrimo. And thank Goddess for Gabriele, the woman in our online workshop who brought it to our attention. Fifteen or twenty of us signed on to write a novel in a month, 50,000 words. Do or die.

OMdoublefreakinG it was amazing. Just how amazing you will get an inkling of when I paste in the following graphic:

That’s a screenshot of my Writing Buddies tab on my profile page at NaNoWriMo, taken on November 29, 2008. Twelve people, twelve people who a month ago decided to each write a book. And they all did it! What are the odds, sweet Jesus, what are the odds?

I tell you, whoever you are, and you are me I think, to go through that experience with those people had to be one of the most something of the something somethings ever of something time. And more. For me it was. That’s for sure.

An artist’s dream, or surely this artist’s dream, though I’d never dreamt of such a thing before, to build a dream together, a world of people from Sweden to Australia to Germany to Korea to all over the planet, to gather together in one place, online, and share the vision of a new project, each of us with our own, from germination to glorious completion, and never even have to meet them? O Glorious Ya Ya!

Oh we did meet. I only say that to be funny, and kinda true. We met all right. Like I’ve never met a group of people before. A group of artists. We met on Olympus, but don’t tell anybody. Lordy, if a person was to set out to be artistic for one month, that’s the way to do it. I’ve never been so artistic in my life, and I’m not sure many of us from that bunch have.

We took our minds and went WHOOM! Together we offed into the beyond below and above and behind and before anything we had ever done before. Bang we were off and into and there and some swift and some slow and some agonizing some glorying. The words began to gather. Words and words and counts and counts we delved deep into our souls.

Aphrodite where are you? Wounded one of the fierce nether-clan be here. Hiders, fakers, women, men, families and neverwhen. Where is Mathew, vampires soon, what can be done with this truth of blood?

Bring on the mice, bang ‘em in headly. Bounce those words, fang through those bastards, share, share, share. Share on through my goodly brood, and tell us what you feel. Words from Spain and pain pain pain from Sweden. I have never done this. I have never too.

Bleed those words into the uni, bleed them til you cry. Spill that gut and fling that error, say what you must and cannot. Say it say it say it you must, you shall. The word count is all. Fill the weeks with joy and terror, share that agony you cannot see, share that wonder that spins you, spill it out, wordcount wisdom, spill it out, spill it out and be free.

Laws a mercy, it was something to behold. I just feel so very lucky to have been given a chance to be a part of that, unlike any outpouring of soul you will ever see in any church. So truly authentic, so from the heart. We didn’t take our wisdom from any books. We made our own books, written in the blood sweat and tears of our own experiences as humans in this world of ours. That’s all.

Quotes from the crew:

I am starting to fall in love with Quinlan. It’s going to suck when I have to kill him.

She was drunk and broke her toe.

It has made me the gunman who does not hesitate to draw. I can draw now, anytime.

If I get out of the way, much happens.

Probably morning is best for me.

(And one from Homer Simpson, our greatest living philosopher:)

I’m normally not a praying man, but if you’re up there, please save me Superman.

LWIII