Courtesy of Janna Shaw, and something I very much like... Block graffiti: “One regret, dear world, that I am determined not to have when I am lying on my deathbed is that I did not kiss you enough.”
I had a lovely run this morning, despite feeling like utter poo when I awoke, courtesy of curry, beer and not much sleep. Bristol docks are so very lovely on cold crisp mornings, when the night sky starts to turn towards day and the colours are rich and magnificent in their intensity.
Nanowrimo is going awfully, in truth. I am not enjoying any of the writing, simply because I really don't like what I am writing. Turgid, lifeless, meaningless and totally lacking in any joy and excitement (what I am writing, I mean, not me). I guess there is too much going on (in my head and elsewhere) and I just haven't got the raw enthusiasm for it that I need.
I am doomed to fail this year, but am resorting to Plan C, which is to use the time and word count targets to finish off last year's NaNoWriMo effort, which has been much trimmed in scope and has characters I actually care about. I still want to see where they end up.
At least the write-ins are great fun, and the people there-in are pretty darned lovely too.
A colleague of mine is retiring in a couple of days (it was his do last night which was the cause of my 'not-feeling-so-good-ness' this morning).
He has bought his van and is going to spend the next few months converting it and then will set off around Europe for 3 or more months, to see what he can see.
The sense of freedom and excitement about him is almost tangible, and I wish him well, with not a little envy.
Have fun Malcolm, you deserve it.