The End.

Well, it took me all night, but I swore I'd have this novel finished in time for Xmas. And I did it. I'm done.

So you remember the other night when I was so pleased with myself for writing 4,127 words?

Hold on to your seats, sports fans:

Tonight I wrote 14,929. No, that's not a typo. 14,929 words.

It's a Xmas miracle.

(Oh, and last night, I wrote 5,671 words. But that hardly seems worth mentioning, now.)

The entire finished first draft weighs in at good, solid 95,530 words. 40,336 of which were written in just the last nine days. I thrive on deadlines.

Gosh, that's a lovely sunrise.

Now, if I were sane, I'd go to bed now, I'm sure. As it is, I think I'm going to try to print the damn thing out and take it to Kinko's now and have it copied and bound and done with. In case, you know, Kinko's is really busy later on, on Xmas eve. Tra-la.

Urrrrrgggrhh.

It took two hours just to print the whole damn thing out.

No. Forget it. Sleep now. Kinko's later.

I go thud now. Wave byebye.