The origins of the Gauntlet are somewhat lost to the mists of time, but sometime after Clarion South 2007, a bunch of us survivors slapped the bejesus out of each other with virtual metal gloves, challenging one another to write like one possessed, cranking out a stupid amount of work in a very short time.  A bit like Nanowrimo, perhaps, but on a smaller scale and with many more friendly insults.

From time to time, it serves us well to blow the dust off the Fists of Steel, declare “GAUNTLET!!!” and have at the keyboard.  Now is such a time.  Following the fallow period that was Video Game January, my legendary ink-brother Peter Ball and I are taking 2011 by the throat and making it whimper.  We’ve both got a bunch of writing goals that need meeting, and there’s only one thing for it:

I won’t be posting much in the way of word-counter thingies or updates, it’s sort of a personal superstition and I just don’t enjoy being publicly accountable if I have a crappy day or if Toddler Fisch/Real Life hijacks a writing session.  But know this, there’s eye-strain and bad 80s music and a stupid amount of writing going on, up till March or so.  It’s on, beyotches.