So I’ve pretty much been living in Book Hell for the past couple of weeks. My deadline is Jan. 3, and it’s been 15-, 16-, 17-hour days. Stuck in my basement office. All alone. Lonely. Hungry. Frustrating. Sorting through piles upon piles of papers for tiny facts that would seem insignificant to anyone not writing this book.
Three minutes ago, my wife surprised me with this hat.
She knows I love hats, she was at the mall and she bought it for me.
That’s love.
