“Nah~ you wanna be here soo fucking badly~WRITE. Oh! what? where ya goin~? Don’t backtrack!! TOO LATE NOW, ya pussies~! You’re IN fn NOV Nov now~ Alllll that fn better than mwahmwahing, stupid grousing & shit-talking… show the world something you didn’t lift from somebody fn else! Put up or shut the FUCK up…Fuck going AWOL.

You think these fn #writerhead #bookbabies give a fuck how you got rounded up into this mess? They’re damned near demons, God love’em! & yo ass showed up with Bullshit, literally asking to be fucking possessed. You better write for your life or they’re going to curse the fuck out of every aspect of your ass for disrespecting their season- Why the fuck do you think they START on Hallow’s eve?!

Come the fuck on!! The coy daily word count is literally 1-66-7! Are ya blind or stupid? How did ya not pick up what you were patching into?!

Haaa! Good fucking Luck!”

The Angel, watching it dawn on the moles in the battalion that they’ve been conscripted too… after popping them in the fucking forehead for not discerning the body.

...cough.*

Ummm... That being addressed...

GOOD LUCK(have fun~)

& Gambatte, ne!!!

@ the Opening ceremonies for the PWA platform alone~

…so far the tribe has already written FOUR fucking MILLION WORDS across 50,000 people since it’s kicked off at 12am November 1st in the first time zone! The goal today: TEN MILLION.

Talk about LET’S FUCKING Gooooooo~!

The Angel, all “YaaarRrrr!!!!” at the collective fire of a thousand suns penetrating the van Allen belts & lighting up her ass at fn 8am.

Real talk, whatever it is that wants to be born is probably going to be borderline kinda like “Fuq YOU~ Write Me~” once you really get in the minor key OF Novel November.

Really writing gives absolutely NO fucks for your feelings OR ego at all. & Starting it when the veil itself is at its’ thinnest during the year didn’t have anything to do with us humans. It was the book babies conspiring, wanting to beat our asses until we birth their books, all working in unison, to fall on writerheads at once for a global push.

Let’s call it fucking cosmic literary Lahmahze!

It’s kinda cool, actually. The camaraderie. If Stephen King WERE to do officially sign on to it, his book babies could be clotheslining him just the same way some teenager in Poughkeepsie could be getting body slammed on day three their first year patching in to the flow.

But~ chill. The point of this isn't competition. Not even with yourself. 1,667 words is a target. But if you've not ever been able to sit your ass down and write a paragraph without drawing blood or pulling out your fn hair in shame and/or disdain due to your own mess... maybe your goal would make more sense being...

"Write a page( paragraph) {sentence} <phrase> that I don't fn gouge my eyes out over and leave it the fuck alone. Don't touch it. Move! Next day, dammit! Breaaaathee! WALK the fuck Away!"

Everyday, for 30 days, ya know?

Play it by ear- you know the nature of the beast standing between you and writing if you really have it on your heart to write a book for real.

If you're only doing this to say you've written a book or out of envy towards one who does it for love? I mean~iii guess? Um... whatever floats your boat.

But it's not about you- At LEAST in Novel November. It's about what's wanting to claw out of you, conceptually.