My cousin’s kid makes this really cute sound whenever his air plane takes a nose-dive into the sandpit. It goes something like this:
That’s the sound my head makes today as I tackle the monster which rears its head at me every 30,000 words. It’s my death omen or something. Once I’m out of the 30k’s, I’m fantastic. But for whatever reason, getting over the 30k hump is most frustrating. So, to extend the earlier metaphor, my air plane of a novel is taking a nap in the sand.
…and yes, this post is an avoidance strategy. Sorry. Back to NaNo-ing.