I finished the book on Saturday afternoon. I skipped an important swim meet to get it done, which made me feel a little guilty. But I was determined to return to work on Sunday with the thing completed. That was the original goal, and I would’ve viewed last week as a failure if it hadn’t happened.
So, it’s finished. I’m not completely happy with the last two chapters, I think they were rushed, but I should be able to fix those problems fairly quickly. In fact, I have to fix them fairly quickly — because I’ve committed to sending the manuscript to my agent by the end of the week.
It’s great to finally have it done, but there are a few harsh realities which need to be remembered. And here are two of the main ones:
1. Just because I wrote a novel doesn’t mean it’s any good.
2. Just because the book is finished, doesn’t mean it will ever be published.
But, you know, I think it’s funny and entertaining, and that’s all I wanted. I’m no Oxford-educated ascot-wearing literary genius, and if I’d tried to compete on that playing field I would’ve gotten my ass creamed.
I just told the story in a language I’m comfortable with, and made no attempts at fancying things up. I wanted it to be a good time, nothing more and nothing less. And that’s where I concentrated all my yurtly efforts. I’m happy with the results.
What happens after I send it in on Friday is pretty much out of my hands. I’ll almost certainly be glaring at my cell phone, hollering, “Ring bitch!” and driving Toney up the wall. But she’s already been warned about this, and is prepared.
I do have a few things going for me, and here are some of the main ones:
1. I’m signed with a respected agency.
2. The premise of the book is fantastic (I don’t care if that sounds arrogant, it’s true).
3. It features Sunshine, Mumbles, Nancy, and a cast of a thousand always-popular freaks.
4. I have the Surf Report army behind me. You guys are a big part of all this, and if the book is sold, one of the main reasons will be because of the community surrounding TheWVSR. That’s a fact, and I hoist yet another vessel of the golden elixir in your honor — regardless of how this turns out.
Needless to say, my so-called book is taking up a lot of space in my head right now. But I’ll try not to bore everyone with it. I’ll reserve that for Brad, Metten, and Toney. I’ll attempt to spare the rest of you.
Our internet was down, off and on, for more than 24 hours yesterday/today. And I can’t have that.
After I lifted myself off the platform yesterday morning, I shuffled ‘n’ farted my way to the bunker, with a blistering hot cup of coffee. And my computer was nothing but a prop.
This doesn’t happen very often anymore. Back in the Adelphia days it was standard operating procedure, but it’s a lot more stable now. However, I wasn’t in any mood to give Comcast any thumbs-ups, the bastards.
I called their 800 number, and Shaquille O’Neal answered. He instantly started yukking it up with Ben Stein, and I hollered, “My internet’s down, goddammit!” A vaudeville baggy-pants routine was far down the list of things I was wanting at that point.
I then had to negotiate a voicemail labyrinth for five minutes, and finally got a real person on the line. And he wanted to know my account number. I don’t know my account number. Who knows their cable company account number? Just tell me what’s going on with the internet, whistle dick.
And since I couldn’t answer his original question, he wanted to know the last four digits of Toney’s Social Security number. WTF? I don’t know that either. My wife’s Social Security number? I have no idea.
I finally hung up in a huff, all internetless and frustrated and growling like a dog.
Toney called them twice, after she got home from work. The first time she got the impression the person was just blowing smoke, and trying to get her off the phone. But the second try was a lot better. Apparently we were actually reconnected to the internet for a few hours. The problem was blamed on our Vonage box.
But when I got home last night, at 2:30 am, everything was dead again. This time we had no cable TV, either. One step forward, two steps back.
When Toney got to work today, everyone was complaining. I guess the whole town was deader than Kelsey’s nuts. But it’s working now, at least for the time being. And it’s pretty freaking fast, too. The shit is flying.
So, what’s been going on? How’s the holiday shopping coming along? We have the kids’ stuff done, but beyond that… the docket remains full.
I haven’t bought Toney anything yet. In fact, I haven’t bought anything for anybody yet. Sheesh. Too much pressure. I think I’ll just go get a shitload of Cracker Barrel gift cards, and be done with it. That’s an acceptable romantic gift for a wife, isn’t it? A shitload of Cracker Barrel gift cards? Heh.
One thing’s for certain: I’m buying a bottle of Maker’s Mark on Thursday. We started Bourbon Season with Jack Daniel’s this year, on a whim, and it didn’t really do the trick. We need to return to our roots.
The stress is fairly high around this house right now, there’s snow on the ground, and a bottle of Maker’s Mark is calling my name. Can you hear it? I can, and it sounds like it could use a lozenge.
I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Sorry things are so screwed up, but it should be better soon.
Have a great day, my friends.