Imagine that you’ve somehow made the mistake of accepting an invitation to a masturbation party. You walk into the room, take your seat, expecting something else completely, when all of sudden . . .
Okay everyone. Begin. Hey, how’s it going over there? What would be another word for lubrication? Anyone? I figure 5000 strokes every three days and I’ll make it. That shouldn’t be too hard. Mmmm mmmm mmmm. Those cookies are good. Who brought the cookies?
Now, let’s make it perfectly clear that I did not, in fact, stumble in upon a masturbation party. I have no idea if there is actually such a thing, but I am fairly confident that if there was, it wouldn’t take place at the public library.
Last night was the Nano Kick-off party, and that’s kind of what it felt like as I sat down to write in front of a room full of strangers.
When it comes to writing, I’m used to my silence. I like being alone when I write. I don’t like people in the room, talking and eating chips and chitchatting about anything and everything. I don’t want someone looking over at the serious grimace on my face, thinking he’s trying too hard. Sure I have a big head, but there’s only so much room up there. Trying to write needs all the space it can get.
But I sat there and did my best. I chitchatted and ate chips. I squirmed around in my seat and made a writing face. I even pecked out a few words. Six hundred something. It’s a start.