Well, here we are with enough distance from Thanksgiving to appreciate it. I come from not just a family, but a united federation of families that is so big and spread out that holidays don't involve planning, they involve strategy. In the end, there was feasting and poker and a heartbreaker of a football game and laughter.
And like forty pies. Which was a lot of pies.
And now that Thanksgiving, with it's relatively light preparations compared to the looming juggernaut of Christmas, is behind us, it's clear sailing to the end of NaNo.
Perhaps some of you have finished, and are sitting back with a cigar and a brandy, wondering aloud what all the fuss and bother was about.
Perhaps you are one of the sane people who has washed their hands of this nonsense, and gone back to writing like a sensible person, and have been relieved of connecting every day on the calendar to how many @#$! words must be produced before sundown.
Perhaps you are like me, and are very close, but need to make that final sprint to the finish. In that case, the coffee is on, the chair is warm, the cats are waiting to sleep at your feet, and there is a whole week ahead of us. Godspeed, crazy writers!
(but we're going to need more peppermint mocha creamer. And I think we finally ran out of pie)