This entry originally appeared on my disability blog, I hate stairs.

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month)  is a group novel-writing event that is held every November all around the world. Here is a forum conversation between me and a fellow participant from Mississippi.

Me: I’m behind the default daily goal. I let the unknown slow me down instead of embracing it. I’m also struggling with making up things that I know I could research if I had more time. For instance, how the FBI works. Or how time travel should theoretically work. Or how love works (maybe I can’t research that one!). But I’m catching up.

lighningshock:watch Dr. Who while you work then you’ll know ALL about time travel. (and you’ll devellop a healthy British accent)

Me: Two things I’ve always wanted!

And just for kicks, here’s an excerpt of my forthcoming novel:

The facility was small. It was basically one large room with a few smaller rooms that were really just oversized closets adjoined to it. It was windowless, lit only by a few dim fluorescent lights, a couple of desk lamps, and a large computer monitor. With notes here, chunks of miscellaneous rubble there, and terabytes of information stored only in my father’s brain, it was a primordial soup of ideas waiting to evolve into fully formed concepts.

“I’ve got a big development on the way,” he said not yet turning around to greet me. “Did you know that a typical Bureau employee uses his standard issue retractable pen an average of 27 times a day. Each of those times he must click the pen twice, once at the beginning of the session and once at the end. I have created a pen that will only write on paper, will not dry out, and will not leak ink in desk drawers and coat pockets, thus eliminating the need for retraction. One can pick up the pen and use it immediately. This will save approximately one second per writing session. That’s about a half a minute of time savings per person per day. If you multiply that out over the entire organization, that’s about 75 hours of time saved every day.”

“Interesting,” I lied.