Kind of, anyways.
It was incredibly rewarding to take part in NaNoWriMo, and I look forward to having a go at it again next year, lessons learned tucked confidently in the crook of my elbow.
The first draft is finished. There is some serious work to be done: twisting the story line around to make sense, characters cut/added/switched around, rubbish to be chopped out, and a title to be found; but in the meantime it's nice to not have to look at the beast.
Familiarity breeds contempt.
I am, however, really looking forward to starting some new stories. I've got lots of ideas, both for novels and short stories, and am very excited for a break in my social-events calendar so that I can make the most of them.
Speaking of which, I'm preferably a solitary animal. To my happy surprise slash utter dismay, I've got a lot going on this month including, recently, some social event to attend every night for over a week. This never happens, and it would appear that I lack the stamina for it. Trying to juggle Christmas shopping, sorting out personal paperwork, and every day life things around all of these festivities is really taking it's toll on my mental state. I need some alone time.
My hair is still purple and still at my shoulder blades, despite longing to get it cut and dyed back. There just isn't the time lately, and it's bloody frustrating.