I’m lazy. I want to be a writer, but I can’t get started. I can think of at least 500 readons why I can’t work. Every day the piece that I’m working on sits in the Word document waiting to grow and fulfill its destiny among the great stories that are etched into the brains of Lit students everywhere. Tomorrow I’ve got to get back in the game and release the character from Limbo and let him move on with his life. He’s got a life I’ve made fot him and he’d better get on with it. He’s got to make me famous.