Charlotte's Lair

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In church today, I heard a child tell the pastor in front of the whole church for the strength to run away on his wedding day. What did he want from Jesus? (was the question.) He was only five or six. Some are naturally smarter than others, right?

Forced writing in my camp NaNoWrimo drew me into a sort of scene I do not normally write in my stories but I felt it would help my character. I wrote this line: I heard her cry my name and I couldn’t even remember my name.

I am a bit embarrassed about how slow I write. I am having fun, though. That is what it is all about: plug your nerves into an electrical socket with the power on and start writing till the pain isn't so bad, then take a break until the pain can be fresh again! Or, something like that. I mean this figuratively, not literally, of course. Causing real pain is wrong, very wrong.