All writers have them.
Characters with limp, heavy limbs stuffed in unplugged freezers keeping company in dark storage units.
Well, it's novel writing month. Time to haul them out. Time to get those bitches out now and pull a little CPR.
Interestingly, this little tidbit in the news fueled my own interest for characters stuck in limbo - or worse, stuck in that dark space, unopened for years.
Don't let this happen to your characters.
And it's National Novel Writing Month. Translation: Time to get nagged by anyone who so much as touches pen to paper.
But this is how my days are going instead:
How to: Clock in, Clock out.
Take out brain upon arrival.
Throw out window.
And I'm starting to experiment on myself. If I drink x amount of coffee in y amount of hours, I will shit myself z amount of times. It's relieving the tedium for now, but God, it's hell on my body.
Now enough complaining.
I'm working on stuff too. I am. It's those characters I've stuffed away, a mangle of loose limbs and hair, ready to jump out if I so much as breathe on them. I'm even CPR certified. Go ahead. Write. And if they're dead? Well . . . there's always zombies.