I could finish reading one more book, reviewing one perhaps, I could even revise one if I didn’t stay in bed all-day or if I went to bed at a decent hour; before 1:30 in the morning. I should treat every day like a Book Fair. Will’s Books Aren’t Fair
Friday, December 27, 2019
Log 179 ~Will’s Books Aren’t Fair~
Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now; I tell you it’s like Book Fair Week every day. Am I upset I didn’t get anything for Christmas? Okay, when I was a kid, I didn’t have any money for the Book Fair. I bawled, but somebody bought me a book on baseball. Now while I loathe baseball, I did gain a passion for reading and maybe sex. My point is that it was one more reason I wanted to write books. Well, also recognizing my name to be sure.
So today isn’t Friday as you noticed, I’m still staying a day ahead. I wrote on Christmas Day because, honestly, what else was there to do all day? I’m time-traveling again as it were, trying to, I don’t know, change my future. I didn’t start SIGH today. I meant to do so much work on GULP. Again I had a hardy breakfast. Judging by the weight of My Dæmon, he’s reaping the benefits. Something more to be grateful for, I know. What about on Christmas Day I played Far Cry 5, and I did not shoot the deputy or let anyone else kill him. In all fairness, I didn’t play for a full hour either, NXT was on, and I fell asleep during that sadly. Some stories are more equal than others. I want my tales to be at the top of the heap. When somebody asks me what my book is about, Willie, Warfare, and Women, though order changes.
It’s not fair that I didn’t get to work on my story today. I would indeed dream of myself successful. Instead of doing anything about its creation. Lady Sophia, I did dream about that movie Harlem Nights and even that club in Life, “Ray’s Boom, Boom Room.” You know I wouldn’t get caught dead in a tux, so what could the dream mean? I want to have a level of success like Eddie Murphy, no doubt. A tux is black and white, and I’m a writer, so enough said. No, I won’t go all Sigmund Freud on this because today, see now it’s Thursday, but I posted already. Friday is about writing, but it’s still Thursday at this moment. I promise you my books aren’t so complicated. Somebody always ends up running a brothel, and everything will go, BOOM, BOOM.
Bedsprings and headboards, books, bombs, well Will’s Books Aren’t Fair.
I Will Have No Fear