Hi [ YOUR NAME ]. How is 2011 treating you? It is raining here. Raining on the snow. The city is a giant Slurpee. Starbucks is unleashing a new gallon-sized coffee on the United States. Apocalypse. I mean, that's just ridiculous. They need to stop. I am starting to worry that I do not drink enough beer. I am worried that I also do not worry enough. I started a novel. It is coming along nicely so far. I do not really know what I am doing, but I am please with my two weeks of progress. I have decided to only measure my progress based on effort rather than word count. I do not want to just spew out a bunch of crap sentences [ LIKE THESE ] with the notion of going back later and cutting and revising. I am trying to make sure everything is in good shape before I move on to the next bit. But I have no idea what I am doing. I get excited about working on it, though. And then I stare at the screen terrified and after I screw around on the Internet or do the dishes or watch porn, I will write a sentence and feel like I accomplished something. And I think about it a lot and then, sometimes, a thousand words will come out after I have solved some problem in my head. And then I will revise a lot and then the whole process starts over. I dunno. I am watching an action movie at work. It is terrible. The protagonist wants to be in the CIA and he gets teamed up with a not-by-the-book partner on a secret mission. Oh, and he just got engaged, right, because anyone who wants to be a CIA agent also wants to have a wife and kids and of course he cannot tell his fiancee what he does for a living [ TOP SECRET ] and he has to keep their love alive while saving the word. And drugs. And Guns. And whores. And Chinese. And terrorism. And car chase. And boompow. Zoinks.