National Novel Writing Month in which a single person is seized by this manic desire to put down 50,000 words within a 30 day period. In November, everyone and everything becomes fair game as story fodder. You, my friend, just became a character. If you're lucky the author will kill you off before they marry you to the horned minotaur of Araxis V.
This year I'm doing a literary novel. The Hunger Inside is a story of a woman who leaves the military and struggles to find a "place". On her journey she opens a restaurant in the very poor section of a city that isn't doing so well. She discovers that all the things she really wanted to get away from are things that she can't get away from. They keep walking in the door!
A literary novel is different from most of the fiction and sci-fi and fantasy I write, but I am thoroughly enjoying it. I get to point out stuff that I normally wouldn't in real life. Instead of telling off the jerk who says the homeless don't belong anywhere, I make him a backstreet drug dealer in the book. Backstreet drug dealers don't last long in my stories.
In following the true spirit of the month, I drink way too much coffee, reward myself handsomely with lots of chocolate, and fret and fuss over everything I have just written. I do have to say that this year I like my words. I love my words. I love how they are coming out, what they are saying, and why I am writing them.
They need to be said. People need to read them. It will make people want to think.