NaNo Closing

Never certain just how it will go

Another year has just seemed to flow

Now that I’m writing for more than just me

Only despair would see me leave it be

Writing has become a part of my soul

Ridding it of the death that once was my toll

I have found joy within the written word

My mind had not known, for my life was once lured

Out of the darkness that once kept me mired, of death and despair I have grown rather tired


Today is the last day of National Novel Writing Month and I have diligently been working on my own contribution for this yearly event. Sadly, I can’t post my word count at the moment because this post, like all of my others, was written almost a month and scheduled several weeks in advance. At the time of writing this post, though, I’m about one fifth of the way to the initial goal which is 50K words. My own personal goal is only about 1/8th complete, but if I follow my schedule (or get ahead of it) then I should be fine. This year was a first draft original story and those always seem to get written faster than the second draft due to the way I have the draft setup. (It only took me three years to find this method, but it was worth it!)

If you’re ever interested in any of the authors who take part in NaNoWriMo, check out the official website. If you ever want to check out my own section, I am under the name SunstarPhoenix. Or if you want to join the site and have some fun yourself, go on ahead (and I’m sorry if you wanted to join, but only found out about it now at the end of the month. That happened to me the first year I found out about it, but that didn’t stop me from trying again following years. They also have events similar to the one month of writing like mad that are run year-round with links on the NaNoWriMo site.)


Remember the Love and Not the Anger

That is not the woman I knew growing up, that is a woman desperate to get into heaven. –unknown


For me, the above quote is not quite correct. It’s not so much that she is desperate to get into heaven and more that she remembers her early days as a mother, when she didn’t really know what she was doing and let her emotions of anger, fear and frustration take over and is privately horrified at it. She wants to be different and not the way she was at first.

She wants to be better than she was and so is trying.

Because she wants her children and her grandchildren to remember her love and not her anger.


He’d met heroes, and been accused of being one himself. –unknown


It was insulting, is what it was. Calling him that! It’s not like he’d done anything that was particularly special, anyone would have done the same thing.

All he’d done was stick up for someone, just because sticking up for them happened to include defending their life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness did not in any way make him a hero.

It just made him a good man who was willing to do something about it.