…was called Gwydion

The Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries, W. Y. Evans-Wentz

That’s a lot of words. I’m not sure how many writers there were, although eventually they release some various statistics about this and that. My own word count ended up being 50489 when I validated at ten last night. Tonight I’m at 51,672.

No one pretends all those words are War and Peace Meets Moby Dick and Jane Austen to Recall Times Forgotten. But, it’s a lot of words that came out of people’s heads and onto a screen or paper.

Now the first of December was covered with snow
And so was the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston
Though the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frosting
With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go

There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
That singing works just fine for me

– Chorus –
So, Goodnight you moonlight ladies
and rockabye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colours I choose
Won’t you let me go down in my dreams
And rockabye sweet baby James
– James Taylor

Who wouldn’t love coming out, getting in the car and hearing that song at the end of the day? I sang it to myself this morning, driving along route 20, whiteness around me, Berkshires behind me.

OK, off to get the main character to meet his sweetheart’s parents. eeps.

First off, never ever declare something an important Triad if you only have two parts of it. Two parts does not a triad make.

Doing such a foolish thing, I did a little celebratory rummaging online tonight and didn’t quite find the “omg-yes!” third leg of the triad but I did find this while rummaging: The Black Book of Carmarthen

PS I’d like to say that some of my names and places choices were brilliant pieces of research. I would. I suppose it’s possible that I unconsciously picked up some brilliantly perfect names and places information along the way. But I’m going to go with the fact there there’s nothing quite like dumb luck for creating unbelievable events.

I reached a point in my NaNoWriMo piece tonight where a decision has to be made about what something is going to be, but the counter had already rolled. So, with a cut and paste and a simple stroke of the enter key, suddenly the wild folks over at the OLL were cheering and applauding and I had all kinds of winner certificates and badges and links and other hoopla and swag.

I immediately put on my 2012 winner’s shirt, which I’d ordered in a crazy moment and spent a few weeks worrying about. I tried to convince myself that being short, the WINNER part at the bottom would always be below my waistline… Hey, whatever motivation it takes to get things going again, right? Right.

What am I doing to celebrate. First up: pour a big glass of wine. Next: check the clothes in the dryer to see if they need more time. Then? Try to figure out what the heck is going to wrap up this part of the story so they can all live happily ever after, at least until the next adventure.