Finally! COUNT TO A TRILLION
At about four o’Clock in the morning this Morning, April Fool’s Day, this year also falling on Maundy Thursday, I sent off my manuscript to my publisher. I don’t know whether he is willing to buy the first third of a story without seeing how it ends, but other writers do stuff like this and get away with it, so keep your fingers crossed.
I had told him I would get him something by Easter, in case he wanted to add it to the 2010 publishing schedule, and I made that deadline by four days. Of course, since the whole manuscript is about two years later than I wanted to get it to him, I am not exactly swollen with pride over my punctuality.
The wife was irate that I stayed up until 4.00 on a work day, and so, like a typical manly male who is the Lord and Master of his house, and paterfamilias of the family, I whimpered like a whipped dog while she menaced me with a rolling pin. Strangely, I did not even know she owned a rolling pin. Maybe I can buy her flowers or something.
Next up: my book on Christian apologetics. Nonfiction. Also two years overdue. I assume the publisher I have lined up for that one will tell me to go jump in the lake, but I’d like to finish the manuscript anyway. The idea for this book is that my young atheist self of circa 1984 will be writing and answering letters to my old theist self circa 2042. Younger me is urging older me on his deathbed to give up his false belief in God; older me is uring younger me to marry the girl he loves despite that she is a Christian. Part of my motive to writing this is that the pro-atheists one hears arguing these days are a pathetic lot, arguing without rigor or logic. I can do better.
Older me is not telling younger me about the irate wife with the rolling pin, whom I mean to propitiate with flowers, fear, and trembling. Callow youth does not recognize the virtues of a good marriage.
(NOTE TO THE HUMOR IMPAIRED: The wife, whom I call my the cute love-name of Mrs. Wright, did not menace me with a rolling pin. I did not actually whimper like a whipped dog. I whimpered like a perfectly hale and dignified dog.)
Some readers have written in asking what Mrs. Wright looks like. Fortunately, I have a photo right here.
She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed
Who Knows What Evil Lurks in the Hearts of Men?
John C. Wright, Author
About John C Wright
John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.
