So I’m writing a novel. In the span of a month…
what? Yeah, I know. Why, you might ask. That would be reasonable. Some folks
get drunk and call up their high school exes, some folks get drunk and wax nostalgic
to old songs by Poison or Journey. Some folks get drunk and respond to emails
from friends deciding to write a novel in a month.

I wish I could say I was the latter. I was stone cold sober
when I jumped on this merry-go-round.