Book Update #7 - More Updates and Another Snippet
The current word count for the book is 36,254. Take a few seconds to applaud. Thank you.
I’m getting into the juicy part of the book. Actually, it’s all been pretty juicy, but the part I am at is even juicier. Like my computer machines are spilling fluid all over the place. Juicy.
I am currently jamming to Michael Andrews’ score for Donnie Darko. Go to the previous post and check out the song, “Mad World.” Do it. I guarantee it will stir your emotions up like crazy.

Anyhoo…
I didn’t make much progress on the book last week, mostly because I was busy writing about hot sauce and having friends over to my place.
I jumped right back in on Monday though.
I do want to give a shout out to my homegirl, Jess Glass for being so straight-forward on how she thinks the book is going. Most of the time she thinks it is absolutely awesome. I think those were her exact words - “ABSOLUTELY AWESOME.” She said it in all caps as well. However, she has been pretty cool about bringing certain criticisms to my attention. Hey, we’re not always going to agree right? I mean, Jess and I are a couple of mavericks.
And with that, here is another snippet. It’s actually one of the parts Jess and I discussed at length. In an e-mail. For a few seconds.
All I will say is that it is relative to one of the more pivotal characters in the book:
I got up and went outside to smoke a cigarette. I sat and stared at a small tree that had become a little project. It was not showing any signs of death. It had become a recent hobby of mine to be sadistic to the shit world around me. The parts of the world that defied me. When I was out, I would treat strangers like idiots and women like trash. When I was in, I masturbated, drank and contemplated destroying things.
And I had been at it for a while. Weeks, actually. That fucking plant was resilient. No matter how much I attempted to poison it, it would not die. The week prior, I had poured a can of unused paint into the aeration hole. Nothing. The plant didn’t wither a bit. It just stood there, strong as ever, pissing me off. I went inside and got a container of bleach and a sponge. I grabbed a beer and chugged it down. When I burped, foam came up.
I poured bleach all over the sponge and scrubbed the tree’s trunk, making sure to use the scouring side. I wondered what the passengers of the cars that drove by thought when they saw me washing the tree. When I finished bleaching the trunk, I poured the remaining contents of the bottle into the aerating hole.
I went back inside. I sat back down and jerked off. I imagined the tree outside dying.



