The challenge: I produce a completed and somewhat serviceable novel by December 15th.<\/p>\n
The challengers: My old college buddy James and his unborn baby (due on or about the 15th).<\/p>\n
The rules: I can’t share anything I write, and it has to be completed before the baby is born.<\/p>\n
\n—–
\nJames called at 11pm. He sounded like he was in a hollow, metal room.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you on the toilet?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cNope! NIH!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTesting a malaria vaccine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2026what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMalaria! I sold myself to NIH for a month of testing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh my god. They don\u2019t give you malaria, do they?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo! It\u2019s the vaccine. But there are\u2026side effects. So they have me under observation. They gave me my phone and said I\u2019d better call my wife.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus, James. Shouldn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNah. The less Marcie knows, the better.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have a baby on the way. Why would you volunteer for something like this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFirst: I didn\u2019t volunteer. I\u2019m getting ten grand after taxes. Second: I\u2019m saving the world. Malaria kills three million people a year.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, saving people. Not the world.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you say ten grand?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are the side effects?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMalaria.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJames! Seriously\u2026 Shouldn\u2019t you call Marcie?\u201d<\/p>\n
He laughed, \u201cDude, no way.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy call me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe competition! Four days done. Where you at?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFive thousand words.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot bad!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hate every single one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, well. Still.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s going to be a sucky novel.\u201d<\/p>\n
James sighed, \u201cDon\u2019t worry. You can be that guy who writes a thousand page novel, self publishes it, then forces it on everyone you meet. You\u2019ll die friendless and unloved!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy goal was ten thousand a week. So I\u2019m falling behind\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re one hundred and ten percent crazy, Nacho. Okay, gotta go. The nurses say I shouldn\u2019t be bleeding like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
He hung up quickly, leaving me gaping at the phone in horror.<\/p>\n
Ten thousand words a week. The first thing I had to do was sacrifice Vote for Mithras<\/a>. I raced through the remainder of the story, forcing a quick ending. Far from what I had in mind, but there was no time to think about it. No time to let it flow. The serial had been derailed anyway, so I figured no harm done. Let it die in public, though. Those were the rules of the serials project<\/a>: Don\u2019t quit. Don\u2019t leave something unfinished.<\/p>\n