I just began my NaNoWriMo novel, a Southern Gothic tale about a poet. This poet, a woman named Merle, takes in a boarder (a painter from Washington D.C.). The boarder's paintings start talking to Merle, giving her nightmares and horrific daytime visions. But the thing is... is it all in her head? Or is the boarder someone that she doesn't seem to be? Y'all shall know this little tale by the name of Whisper. (As the NaNoWriMo site also knows it as...)
Either way, I almost felt like abandoning this, but persistent determination has led me to no other choice than to saunter on. If it gets to be too much, and I can't even finish other major tasks (like the story for my graduate school application and finishing Invisible), then I will pull the plug on Whisper.
Today, I plugged in 1776 words. Whoo, the year America became a country (sorta)!
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