...maybe The World Needs A

My Wife Has Told Me Since That I Was Hungover Every Mornng Until About Two In The Afternoon, And From Five Until Midnight I Was Drunk Out Of My Mind. So She Says There Was This Period Of About Three Hours When She Could Talk To Me Like A Rational Human Being.

With Six Weeks' Worth Of Recuperation Time, You'll Also Be Able To See Any Glaring Holes In The Plot Or Character Development. And Listen--if You Spot A Few Of These Big Holes, You Are Forbidden To Feel Depressed About Them Or To Beat Up On Yourself. Screw-ups Happen To The Best Of Us.

Say What You Mean. Say What You See. Make A Photograph, If You Can, For The Reader.

And All That Weirdness Isn't Just Going On Outside. It's In You Too, Right Now, Growing In The Dark Like Magic Mushrooms. Call It The Thing In The Cellar. Call It The Blow Lunch Factor. Call It The Loony Tunes File. I Think Of It As My Private Dinosaur, Huge, Slimy, And Mindless, Stumbling Around In The Stinking Swamp Of My Subconscious, Never Finding A Tar Pit Big Enough To Hold It.

Sometimes A Man And A Woman Reach A Crossroads And Linger There, Reluctant To Take Either Way, Knowing The Wrong Choice Will Mean The End... And Knowing There’s So Much Worth Saving.