Dear Barrister

You know those chain emails you always get, from a lawyer in some random country, who declares that you are the long lost kin of a Baron or Lord who conveniently - and recently - died a messy death? And how they want to work with you to send you, roughly, seven or so million dollars, in exchange for just a few measly tidbits of personal information? Of course you do, because you get them all the time.

Well, I've received one too many lately, and I decided it was time to take a stand against them. Not because they're digging for my personal information, and not because they spam me relentlessly, but because they are written so poorly, so incorrectly, that it's time someone took a stand and did something about it.





And here we go:

NaNoWriMo: The Bastardized Version

For those of you in the know, NaNoWriMo (also known as National Novel Writing Month) is an annual novel writing project, held in November, that "brings together professional and amateur writers from all over the world." The concept is simple - if difficult - enough: write a novel in a month.

I've supposed to have joined, what, seven times now? Eight? (Good god, has it been that long?) but, true to form, I always completely fail to even write a title on the ubiquitous, glaring white of the empty Microsoft Word doc. Whoops.

Course, also true to form, when I finally decide to do it, I decide to do it off season, when no one else is even contemplating such insanity, and I embrace it wholeheartedly, telling anyone who will listen just how amazing I am and how amazing my book is going to be, and so on and so forth. And it will be! Just take it from me. I know things.

Also, it's about zombies. Obviously.

So, long story short (har har), August is my NaNoWriMo. Weekends are free for alls, and my work schedule for the month is 12pm-9pm; I'll be going into the city with Tyler for his 9am-normal shift, and I'll spend those three hours banging away on my laptop in the Barnes & Noble in the Pru.

Bring it.