By 9pm I'd fallen asleep putting my overtired baby to bed and thus didn't write the business plan I'd brought home. I had however, between stirs of my cheese sauce, managed to write my 100 word entry for this week's #TuesdayTales on the notepad my iPhone. The two prompts were:
1. The word JAUNDICED
2. A yellow hued picture of two empty chairs facing each other (you can see the image on @theGlitterLady's blog)
You can read my entry below:
It was a plague year.The pestilence had spread everywhere. Cassandra could smell it in the dank air, in the blank, jaundiced windows of empty houses and in the silence. The silence was the worst. Lifeless playgrounds, deserted streets. A yellowed poster hung, tattered and flapping on the townhall: 'Ambrosiol: Live Forever'. The wonder-drug of big pharma. Reverse aging. Become immortal.
Ambrosial. People couldn't get enough of it. Gods at last.
She'd told them all punishment would come. Cataclysmic. Cruel. No one believed Cassandra. Not until the first child died. Be immortal, the gods whispered. Suffer.
The exciting thing about the 13th #TuesdayTales wasn't @theGlitterLady's cleverness in having her Halloween week contest be number 13 (see what she did there?). It was the fact she turned it into a NaNoWriMo launch. Lots of this week's entries are the openers for NanoWriMo - a month long novel writing challenge. And the quality is HIGH.
I find myself jealous. There's a GREAT buzz of writerly excitement around NaNoWriMo. Twitter and the Blogosphere are alight with chat about it. There's a vast and supportive community forming and I WANT TO PLAY. But unless I make like Annette Benning in the wonderful 'Slipper and the Rose', wave my magic wand and declare 'Well why not? I'll just make time!' with the full force of my fairy godmother powers, I'm stuffed - because the aim of NaNoWriMo is to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Tantrums notwithstanding, that's a lot of stirring of the cauliflower cheese.