September 10th: books

I've just spent the past 9.5 hours editing my favourite and worst book. I'm either going to die, cry, or pop a beer and eat pizza and Ben and Jerrys in the bathtub. I haven't decided yet. 

It's only been two years since I wrote the first last words of How to go to Hell in 80 Days, and twenty minutes since I wrote the 8th last words of How to go to Hell in 80 Days. I've lost so many chapters from bad file keeping, and so many jokes that are no longer politically relevant. I love my characters, and I love tormenting them. I love how they squirm and fight back. But they're not good people. I'm worried people will think they're good people. I'm not looking for another Atlas Shrugged situation. 

I still don't know if I want a beer or a nap.