I would be remiss to exclude my feelings with this project, this year's NaNoWriMo, this Twenty-four Hours in Vancouver. The feelings, all of them, intense ones too, are all over the place. The truth is, I really don't know how I feel or where to begin.
I could begin in 1999, November. I wrote the original story then. I was living in Southeast Portland and working for the Cascade Pacific Council, Boy Scouts of America. I was 27. I was very unhappy, and for the life of me now, I have no idea why. I was unhappy with work. I thought I was a sellout. But being a sellout, as such, doesn't seem that bad of a thing to me now. I felt like a fraud working for the Boy Scouts too. I didn't like Southeast Portland. All I wanted to be was a writer, even if I didn't know what that meant.