Tag Archives: A Man Drinks Tea

A Man Drinks Tea

The Pictonaut Challenge has now been going for three hundred and sixty-seven days. It all began back on August 3oth 2011 with This Blog Needs You my plaintive cry to the faceless multitudes of the internet to join me in writing some fiction, once a month, every month; till the earth’s seas do boil away and the realm of man turn unto dust; until every star in the night sky winks out and the void finally grows cold and still; until the mere memory of words is all that remains; until I get bored and finally give up. But as of yet I haven’t given up, nor have I been alone in my endeavours. Every month at least one poor sap has joined me in my writing, sometimes more than that, but I have never soldiered on alone. I’d like to take the time to thank all of those who joined in and cranking out a wordascope wretched or otherwise, but most importantly of all I would like the thank my own stubbornness for forcing me to keep going. I’m a year down the line and I now have some twelve thousand odd words. Twelve thousand odd words which I wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t started this whole mad idea. Sure it’s no 12 books in 12 months, but it’s a damn side better than having written nothing at all. Add to this NaNoWriMo and all of the blog posts I’ve pumped out and I’d estimate that in the year since I started this project I’ve written 111,000 words. Now that’s almost respectable.

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August’s Pictonaut Challenge

So we’ve finally found our way into the month of August. August is a funny month, but then again all months are funny in one way of t’other. In this instance it’s not that August can be used as an adjective, placing it into a very small category of English words who’s meaning changes when capitalised or not. For me the funniness of August derives, like so many things in my own twisted world view, from the weather. August in England sits awkwardly between summer and autumn and never seems to be quite content on remaining in one category or the other. It swings from vast, mind blisteringly hot Indian summers one year to icy gales and torrential, autumnal rain the next. It’s over the middle hump of the year and August is so often the month that shows us just how shallow or steep the slope down towards winter is. Now it’s probably best that I dispense with the painful highlighting of my Englishness through to endless discussion of the weather and get to the mater at hand. August’s Pictonaut Challenge.

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