In most ways, I am like Barton Fink: cranky, self-involved, inclined to procrastinate, beset by friendly strangers and kind of jewy. But unlike Barton, I make deadline. In January, I set out to write a comic novel based on the characters in this stupid blog post. In June, I planned to finish a first draft by the end of the summer. The goddamn thing went off to Write Club about an hour ago, as the temperature dropped and it started to rain. I just finished the first draft of a novel. It is exactly 250 pages long, and it sucks. But the hard part is done. A chill is on the breeze. College football starts tomorrow. Today is Friday, and summer is over. Won’t you take the rest of the day off with me?
Congrats.
May I be the—dammit—second to congratulate you.
So, Al’s at noon then? Congrats.