NaNoWriMo Kick-off
Oct. 29th, 2005 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabremeisterIt being very hard to seperate me from a party, I went to the NaNoWriMo kick-off party in central London, and have just got back. It was in a tiny room, into which over 30 people eventually crammed, the beer was expensive, and there was no-one there I knew. But on the plus side, there were free sweets, free badges and stickers for first-timers, humourous advice sheets for if/when you get stuck writing the damn thing, and everyone had the same thing in common - we were desperately trying not to talk about what we would all be doing in November.
I spent most of the evening in the company of two young ladies who work with young people (in advice and counselling), one of whom had WriMo'd before (Alison), and the other had been dragooned along to the party (Tara). God knows what we talked about, I wasn't bothering to remember it. I do recall that Alison had recently seen Corpse Bride and was planning to see Serenity, and that Tara had an amzing smile, even with the braces. Neither was a Pratchett fan, but that didn't really matter much, seeing as they were doing most of the talking.
When they left, I was almost immediately collared by Tricia (the ML), who used me to rescue her from a conversation about the regenerative powers of goblins after having been a) eaten, or b) run over by a train. I said the first was unlikely, the second possible. Then they suggested that the bits of the eate goblin might regenerate in the stomach into seperate new goblins. I replied by telling them, goblins aside, vampires have risen from the crypt and the grave, but they have never risen from the cat, a remark which they instantly jumped upon and marked them as Pratchett fans. They almost instantly discarded this conversational life-raft for me, and started speculating about such things as combing hydra and goblin DNA, magical catapults that have the missile return to them after hitting something, and so on. Deciding that getting the Hell out of there is the better part of valour, and that I should really get home soon anyway as I need to get some sleep, I left, thankful that there are wierder people than me out there.
I spent most of the evening in the company of two young ladies who work with young people (in advice and counselling), one of whom had WriMo'd before (Alison), and the other had been dragooned along to the party (Tara). God knows what we talked about, I wasn't bothering to remember it. I do recall that Alison had recently seen Corpse Bride and was planning to see Serenity, and that Tara had an amzing smile, even with the braces. Neither was a Pratchett fan, but that didn't really matter much, seeing as they were doing most of the talking.
When they left, I was almost immediately collared by Tricia (the ML), who used me to rescue her from a conversation about the regenerative powers of goblins after having been a) eaten, or b) run over by a train. I said the first was unlikely, the second possible. Then they suggested that the bits of the eate goblin might regenerate in the stomach into seperate new goblins. I replied by telling them, goblins aside, vampires have risen from the crypt and the grave, but they have never risen from the cat, a remark which they instantly jumped upon and marked them as Pratchett fans. They almost instantly discarded this conversational life-raft for me, and started speculating about such things as combing hydra and goblin DNA, magical catapults that have the missile return to them after hitting something, and so on. Deciding that getting the Hell out of there is the better part of valour, and that I should really get home soon anyway as I need to get some sleep, I left, thankful that there are wierder people than me out there.
