Samhain (IPA: [ˈsawənʲ]) is the word for November in the Irish language. The Scottish Gaelic spelling is Samhuinn. The same word was used for a month in the Celtic calendar, and in particular the first three nights of this month, the festival marking the ending of the summer season, and the end of the harvest. A modernized version of the festival continues today in some of the traditions of the Christian All Souls' DayHalloween. The name is also used for one of the sabbat feasts in the Wiccan wheel of the year.
Here's a little seasonal entertainment for you, though you will need flash to play. Click on the beast to wake it, then click MORE to feed this little purple creature, and it will follow your cursor around its cave. [If you click into the BunnyHero Labs, BEWARE: POPUPS!]:
What, you don't think that's scary? Consider its name.
See that blue box on the sidebar? Well, you probably don't, as most of you read me elsewhere -- that blue box is my NaNoWriMo wordcounter. Yes, I'm serious.
How do I know I'm serious?
I've spent the last two weeks preparing. Not preparing what I'm going to write -- I still don't have a clue -- but preparing to write. I even pushed past my natural introversion, and attended the local NaNoWriMo kick-off get-together. Strangers. Mostly young, energetic strangers. And I plan to attend the weekly writing meetings, too.
So, I am clearly very serious, even though I don't know what I'm doing.
NaNoWriMo too scary for ya? Maybe this is more your line:
NaBloPoMo is an alternative to November's NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, the program wherein you crank out a novel in thirty days.
Some of us lack the imagination, stamina, and self-destructive impulses required to write a novel that quickly, but, by Grabthar's Hammer, we can update our blogs every day for a month!
[I wish I could remember where I saw this -- if you think it might have been you, let me know, and I'll add your link to this post.]
Now, if trying NaNoWriMo is scary, how frightening would it be to try both?
Well, let's find out, shall we?
When I moved to Alaska, a friend saw me off at the ferry. As I was sitting in my car, waiting to board, I -- without warning to either of us -- shouted at her: What the hell am I doing? Why didn't you try to stop me?
She said she had tried to stop me, but I ignored her.
Now, why did I suddenly think of that?