So, turns out it's hard to write a novel in a month. Who knew? I end National Novel Writing Month just shy of 10,000 words, less than 20% of the way to the goal. But I think that the novel I've begun is actually good, and something I will finish. And I've gotten better (I think) at setting aside some time each day to write, though that's gotten a bit harder as the days have gotten busier due to the continual jettisoning of parts by my faithful steed, which will now only run where gravity takes it (Which is not far, since the way out of the parking lot is uphill). Yay for buses!
Anyway, 2,147,483,647 words were written by the participants last month, and congratulations to all of them. In this sort of race against the clock, everyone can set aside personal competition and just write without regard to how their quality stacks up against that of others, which is presumably something of a liberating feeling, and something I did not manage to achieve. Which is why I bet my book-in-progress is better than theirs (collectively). With the pace I've set for myself, they'll get to find out this summer.
In unrelated news, I'm volunteering at Vermont Public Television tonight for what I presume is pledge drive assistance. I think this officially makes me a member of the liberal elite. Does the title come with a paycheck?