Cracking the Frost


First, a note: I need to start collecting photos of old typewriters. It’s getting more and more difficult to find proper images to fit this blog. And, while I adore the aesthetic of my grandfather’s typewriter, variety is demanded.

This April’s Camp NaNoWriMo was instructive.  Not only did I meet my goal, which was admittedly low, but more importantly I proved to myself I can write about a thousand words an hour, if properly motivated. I’m wondering if the drag created by the long process of working on Ivre lead to a very low word count.  Metaphysical Graffiti moves.

Every night, after dinner and a little time with my lady, I sit in the kitchen.  Internet radio tuned to WWOZ, I’d write out a thousand words of Baton Rouge weirdness.  Maybe my intense dedication to one project, with no other outlets, hampered me rather than helped.

Quite a bit to think about as the month starts to close.

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