"Once more into the breach..."

This morning I started writing another November novel. I didn't hook up with NaNoWriMo, and I intend for this to be a closet piece. It's about a certain family, including a marriage and a divorce, and it's purely for therapy. I knew I'd have to write it eventually before I could do anything else important. They say you have to write a million unsuccessful words before you learn enough to write something good. I expect I really have written at least half that much. Probably more. Have I learned anything? "Ahem," as they say. That's another word I hate--it really is a dictionary word.

I did get a few trick-or-treaters last night, and they were all little kids. I don't like it when groups of teenagers storm the porch.