The Novel

I’m finishing the final chapter of my book (though I still have to write the epilogue… that’s okay, wrap-ups are fun to write). Mostly, I’m stunned at what a litany of violence it’s becoming. As if all the evil ignored by the protagonists was busting through the dam, drowning them in beatings, brutality, and blood. The next step, once I’m done with this first draft, is paring it down from Moby Dick size to In Cold Blood size.

So let it be written. So let it be done.

Feel free to cheer me on. I could use the encouragement to finish it by Saturday.

That Reminds Me…

My wife and I have yet to mind-fuck our four-year-old son and arrange to have a bizarre and embarrassing photo chase him down for the rest of his life.

What I want to know is NOT why people do things like this (simple answer, with 6 billion of us on the planet, a large percentage are bound to be goofballs), but who sat down, puffed on their pipe or nursed their tea, and thought, “You know what’s good for a kid’s development? Keeping him or her locked into an infant’s mindset.”

Actually, I take all that back and apologize, because breast-feeding is MAGIC!

Waitasecond! I fell into TIME magazine’s trap! CONTROVERSY!