"It's really a very simple story. What happened was this: I met this girl and did a very stupid thing. I fell in love. Hard. I know that to some people that makes me an idiot and a loser. What can I say? They're right. I did some extremely foolish things; I'm the first to say it. And they've left me in jail and alone."
So begins one of the most compelling, emotionally charged, and affecting novels you are likely to read this year.
I listen to too much Howard Stern, but I have an explanation. Or multiple explanations.
First of all, every writer needs procrastination. It's part of the job description. Any writer worth his salt has to find ways to waste time, and solitaire takes you only so far. (Actually, my solitaire is on-line bridge, a couple of hands at a time, until I drive myself back to my notes and the draft I'm working on.)