Chapters or Coles?

by Nic Olson

I want to write a book. I don’t know why, but the past two days all I’ve been thinking about is writing a book. Every jackass and their dog have books these days. Paris Hilton. R.L. Stein. J.K. Rowling. Tom Clancy. All losers with books that sell. Why can’t I be the next loser. I don’t even have to sell the book, or even have people read it. My life is interesting enough…? I’m witty as anyone else…? My metaphors are a refreshing summer dip in the outdoor pool…?

Has it come to this? Have I seriously this little direction that now I want to write a book?

Don’t get me wrong though, I don’t want to become a writer or anything. No no. But with all this free time, what would one fiction, about a wizard that goes to wizard school, hurt? I think I’d call it, British Crap: Go Read a Real Book. Ohhhh.

But for real, I’m going to write a book.

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