The summer after Best Friend Boy left on his mission, I was lonely. I was uncertain of the future. I missed Best Friend Boy, and I knew I would not see him again for two years. I was somewhat distressed, and so I decided to write a novel.
I spent most of the summer isolated, locked in my room with my laptop. And while Viola and Etch-a-Sketch and Shutterbug and all the rest dealt with their own lives, I dealt with the lives of fictional characters. I spun my own problems into a tale whose plot doesn't represent my life at the time yet somehow encapsulates what I was thinking and feeling perfectly.
You probably wonder where I'm getting at with this. What I mean to say is that right now, I'm lonely. I'm uncertain of the future, and I'm somewhat distressed.
Maybe it's time to write another novel.
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