Unless I call out sick from work—not outside the realm of possibility; I feel horrid—my word count for the day is 175. Of which only 109 words are good words. I have problems with this 'internal editor' thing.
Sistrums jangled, cymbals chimed, castanets clacked, dancers stamped. Meritamun, princess of Kemet, poured a measure of beer for the goddess Hathor and another for herself.
jukebox_fest reveals have occurred, so while I won't explicitly link my fannish identity from this identity, I'll tell you that the working title of my Camp NaNo novel is Viva La Vida and it's set in a fantasy New Kingdom Egypt, starring a queer female Pharaoh who gets dethroned and tries to win back her crown. At this point that's all I've got that isn't in the jukebox_fest story. YAY PANTSING.