<p>November was National Novel Writing Month, a task Cassandra had every intention of participating in until the military sidelined her efforts. Although symptoms of the hangover still persisted, she knew if she didn't take action now she would miss her chance. In college Cassandra majored in English Writing. Even now, she had as much ability to be creative as she did back then; next to none. Creativity always seemed to elude her, and she simply didn't know how to make up a world of characters and personalities and events that seemed believable. Every attempt she made felt forced and superficial. Maybe she should stick with what she knew.</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>But Cassandra often wondered what did she know?&nbsp;She knew she had two small children and an ex-husband who was intent on criticizing her every action, as a mother and a human being. She knew she was tired and depleted, and needed all the help she could get to make it through this next year without her biggest supporter. She knew she was difficult to get along with and often struggled to find purpose. Maybe this would give her the purpose she needed to dig a little deeper. Cassandra recalled the last few years. Where would she even start? Brandon. He was really the heart of it. Maybe she would start there.&nbsp;</p><p><br></p>