It's hard to focus on something as frivolous as writing a novel when the level of your gas tank is going down, down, down, and there's nowhere to buy gas. I do have enough to get to work today, and perhaps tomorrow, so I'm not exactly panic-stricken, but there are people I know who are really in a bad way.
A woman I work with has a son with cancer, and she's worried she won't be able to get him to his chemo treatment. Things are really scary, on so many levels, and those of us who aren't suffering greatly right now are realizing that we are really only a few moments or circumstances away from it.
Those of us who aren't suffering physically are suffering mentally from a form of survivor's guilt, as well. We who have power and hot showers are watching, horrified, the videos on the news of people who have lost their entire houses, everything they've acquired in their lives. Those people are literally our neighbors, and it's just hard to get my head around the fact that a few mere miles separate the hardest hit from those who suffered almost nothing.
NaNoBullshit Stats: 7,456 words
I was just about to hit an impasse with the writing, and a chance search on Google provided me with exactly the inspiration I needed to get fresh creative juices flowing. Now I may have too many ideas, instead of too few. That's a much better problem to have!