There is a singed peace in this feeling, that things are about to break out in chaos. "There center cannot hold" and whatnot. It is better than the encrusted stillness I was struggling with before this. A moment ago I decided that I will write a novel in a month, even though it is not NaNoWriMo. I expect it will be awful. In fact, I am hoping it will be awful. I am just looking forward to the shaking exhaustion and the twitching joy of having written a novel at all, plus I wont have to worry about having any particular expectations, as I am expecting it to be bad.

I don't think it will be a novel, actually. I think it will be 175 pages of garbage, entirely random. I just want to see what will happen. I thought about writing a Dickensian novel set in the 19th century (as I like Dickens - although I have no idea why I like him) but I am too lazy to do the research required to make it realistic. But maybe I will write it that way anyway. I mean, it is suppose to be crap, right?

Or maybe it will be about someone who just wishes that he were in some kind of Dickens novel? Perhaps that will be the lead character - a frustrated dreamer who tries to interpret everything around him through the lens of a 19th Century novelist. Yeah! That's the ticket!

Feh! I think I'll just write in my journal. Novels! I barely ever read novels, anyway. Heck, I barely even read. I am only literate by a fluke. If I hadn't been zapped by the Professor's Intelli-Ray, I would still be writing things like d00d and l33t and other h4x0r-isms. So, ph33r, cuz 1 0//||z0r j00 sux0r w/ my m4d sk1llz! w00t!

Just kidding. I had to look up most of those ... words? I think the closest I come to speaking l33t is when I am chatting with someone and type the letter 'k' instead of 'ok'. Every once in a while I will write 'g2g' or 'ttfn', but somehow I don't think those count.

Anyway, the Professor is calling me. I think it is time to feed the creature. g2g.

Reading
Wishing
Plotting