Day 13 of NANOMO, and my inbox is full of motivational email. Which is working exactly as I predicted. I have written exactly 0 words of "Magical Vampire Serial Killer Submissives and Their Unfortunate Half-African-American, Half-Holocaust Survivor, Half-Palestinian Emigrant Grandparent's Interactions with the Irish Mob and Other Various and Sundry Oddball Characters in a Picturesque but Economically Depressed Small New England Town During the Thanksgiving Holidays." Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert! Spoiler alert! The "ladykiller" best friend is gay and the hero doesn't actually end up with the love interest/elementary school teacher for his troubled, adopted son because she has too much common sense and the hero, as I think we all know, will never change. I also think the hero probably should have stayed in New York after his stunningly beautiful but roundheels wife was murdered by the very corporate interests she spent her time defending in court. It may be a little bit obvious, but as soon as our hero learned about the thumb drive full of smoking-gun environmental impact testing documentation that his wife stashed away in her beloved childhood china doll (that she gave to her niece on her niece's seventh birthday) from the paranormal underground, he should have gone to the authorities. Even if it meant all out war between the magical world, organized crime and SEAL Team Six. Let's face it, an interstellar nano-tech zombie plague is never a good thing, especially combined with the inherent racism of the American South that the hero experienced first-hand when his first love, the daughter of the African-American custodian at the University Library where the hero's father worked long, long hours, because all he ever loved were books... DUSTY OLD BOOKS!, was accused by the insanely jealous and secretly in love son of the nastily racist richest man in town of stealing the new bicycle that her father had saved three years worth of "drinkin' money" to buy for her. Putting it aside every day in a pickle jar. Every day since the "accident", the last day he had let a drop past his lips. All I have to do is not finish this thing by the end of November and I'm golden!
Start anything. Although I did gain five pounds. It's the five pounds that get you. Gain fifteen pounds and no one will notice. Gain ten, same. Gain five and your clothes get too tight and your gut pushes out over your belt because you still use the stretched out hole. Ten pounds and you start wearing the clothes that are normally too big, that you keep with the clothes that are normally too small. Fifteen pounds you get all new clothes. So the too big clothes and the new clothes look OK, no one notices that you now need to wash your ass with a sponge on a stick. But that five pound mark... urcgh. M&M Mars are evil, corrupt bastards who need to be murdered to death with chocolate, and/or nougat and maybe some peanuts and caramel... and I'll be right back... Actually the reason I'm fat is heavy and consistent drinking, because my kids cry and my wife left me. Happy now? You aren't going to say shit about that are you? Oh no! But binging on Halloween candy after three weeks crammed into an airplane for fourteen hours a day and spending the rest in conference rooms listening to the assholes who didn't travel to the meeting yell at their dog over the speakerphone during your presentation? THAT GUY HAS A PROBLEM! Heroin. Any fucking day now. Swear to God.