It is not often that I cry over the death of somebody that I haven’t met, but when I read about Neil Armstrong’s passing earlier today, I choked up.
By all accounts, Armstrong was a kind, humble man who didn’t seek the spotlight and always recognized that it was a team effort that got Apollo 11 to the moon. He was a pioneer and a true hero, not just for our country but for the entire human race.
As a longtime science fiction fan (who at one point wanted to go into astronomy and aerospace engineering), this saddens me more than I can possibly express.
However, this sums it up well:
He took quite possibly the biggest step in human history. RIP Neil Armstrong. You'll never be forgotten.—
(@alisonhaislip) August 25, 2012
And now that I’ve thoroughly depressed everybody, here’s my Camp NaNo update for the week:
Minimum word count for August 25: 40,322/50,000
My current word count: 37,396/50,000
Adventures in NaNoing: I got a total of six hundred words written at the write-in on Sunday. However, I think I consumed my weight in sugar and caffeine.
It’s been a busy week, work-wise, which has prevented me from writing quite as much as I would like. And then the news of Neil Armstrong plus the Apple/Samsung verdict had me reading more Internet news today than I would have otherwise.
However, my goal is to break 40k this weekend, get caught up on Camp NaNo, and write a synopsis so I can enter a contest with a deadline on August 31. No pressure, right?
Very Short Excerpt:
Completely unedited, as always.
Mason scowled at him and stuck his nose back over the sheet of papers on his makeshift desk. “Of course I’m working. I’ve got two hours to finish these bloody reports and find a courier to take them to Chibron.”
Something useful he could do that would require not being on a boat. Ari jumped at the opportunity. “I’ll find one.”
Mason looked almost pathetically grateful. “Please, I beg you. Not only do I have to write these, I have to make them legible.“
Ari had thought of proposing to the king that they use Mason’s handwriting for secret missives. Gods knew nobody else would be able to read it. “The horror.”