Ah, fall. The Giants are kicking baseballbutt (go Giants!). Halloween decorations abound and I have an excuse to accidentally eat two peanut butter cups. And the countdown has already begun for NaNoWriMo.
Last year I started a book with the deliriously bad title of Anton Schickler Sings Bad Songs of a German Childhood. I am still in love in love with title. It went no where, which was helped by my flu. So I started but didn't finish. Husband, however, being a stud not only wrong a book in a month, but he wrote a damned good one. He published it through Blurb and sold about 50 copies. Mostly to friends but a few times to total strangers (with good taste).
So we're coming up on 2010 NaNoWriMo and I am already panicking. No idea. None. Not a clue. No setting. No characters. No genre. Not even the merest hint of an idea. Should be fun.