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Sharpened fingers



I've sharpened my fingers, pencils, and all.

Determined to succeed: I shall not fall.

The wayside of NaNoWriMo is painful indeed,

littered with writers, egos, and need.

Yup, it's the last few hours before the off. Actually, quite a few hours, but for an Emu of little bonce (ergo weency brain) the hours stream by evermore rapidly.

I even know what I'll write! Sort of, almost ... nearly.

If you want to keep in touch with my NaNoWriMo efforts, I have a special blog for it called 'Camy's Idiocy.'



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One little innocent query, if I may, just so I understand better.You're supposed to write 50,000 words. But, do they choose the topic, or do you? And if it's you, what's to prevent you from already having written them?C

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Yep, what Bruin says. It's pointless winning anything if you've cheated ... except, maybe, the lottery. Oh, poop. That too. Just think of how gut wrenchingly awful you'd feel with $1,000,000 in the bank.Umm.Oh yes, must go to bed. Now.

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