So my agent tells me that I need to be more personable, less like an ancient curmudgeon with four chipped shoulders. So here it is. You’re not as ugly as everyone thinks you are. Aside the vainglory of self-expression, the book’s basically done, but it’s become two books. One is suffering in shadows and silence at the copyright office, and the other requires one final read-through. This may not seem like a big deal to any of you, but I’ve read this book so many fucking times that it’s become pulling teeth. Anyways, soon as I put them in, soon as I get them back, soon as I put them up for publishing, you’ll be the first to know. Whoever you are. I feel like we’ve known each other for–let me check my watch–twenty-nine years at least. Anyways, I hope you’ve made some facsimile of a new year’s resolution. Not to complain so much, not to eat so much, not to drink so much, not to smoke so much–strange how complain came first. *Dead silence.* I admit I don’t have one. Watch out you don’t slip and fall and break your tail-bone. See you on the flip-side.