Ever wonder if crows fly as straight as we’ve been led to believe-- a word to the wise, eh? - L. Oliver Bright
The Novel Approach
I am writing a novel. "Why?" you say, And I reply, "Because!" It's...... Write a novel in a month, Month!
Curled in my recliner, Drinking an espresso. Quantity is the aim, For now. 50,000 words. 1667 words a day. Well, not yesterday, And today, I am baby sitting.
Maybe there is a Write a half-novel in a month, Month? - Jenny Harp
Don't you get up on your high horse. You woulda done it, too. I carried that man's babies, all five of you. Walked the floors with you, kept you quiet so's he could sleep, fed you, kept you entertained, made sure you done your homework, put you to bed while he planted hisself in front of the TV every night. Cuz he needed to relax after a hard day. I fixed his meals--grew the vegetables, raised the chickens, cut their heads off and picked 'em clean (you remember? There was a time you liked to help), because no store-bought biddy was good enough for his mama's fried chicken recipe. I cleaned his house, dressed pretty when he came home, never once told him no. You know that? Not once. You know I never finished school, neither, 'cause that man was in such an all-fire hurry to get hitched. He had no cause to go lookin' for greener pastures. He's in for a rude awakening, let me tell you. No one'll do what I did for him. But I woulda been okay. Really. I was mad, sure, but I can't deny it was kinda restful, after thirty years, to buy a TV dinner and watch a chick flick without nobody complaining about it. But when my mama's diamond disappeared from the safe deposit box, I knowed what he did. Gave it to his tramp. That's when I said: enough is enough! You didn't think I had it in me, did you? Thought I was some mousy, obedient little wifey who'd just lay down and take it. Just sit by an' smile while she charmed you all--all his friends, all his family. Thought I'd smile while she took over my house, repainted my walls, tore out my mama's heirloom roses an' put in that ridiculous tope-eye-airy. Well, I learned you all better, didn't I? See, I knew where the hatchet was, and more important, I knew how to use it. Them fancy-pants sculpted shrubberies didn't stand a chance against me. Who sculpts Buddha out of a juniper tree, anyway? Waste of good money, that. Only seemed proper to start in on the shutters and the windows. Do I regret it, now that I'm spendin' a few weeks in lockup? Naw. It felt good. What's that word they use? Cathartic? The look on his face was worth every blessed minute, an' then some. But you shoulda told me it was you taken my mama's diamond.