Thanks, babe. I am a sportin’ man. No doubt about it. And I’m really into this novel. The work. It’s all about the work. The rest is bullshit. Man, I feel great; this is the best part. The part I really like. My fingers are scorching the keyboard. I’m just a fucking conduit now. All the angst is gone. My mind is clicking at levels unsurpassed. You might say I’m experiencing my personal best. But, really, I’m humble. I take no credit. It all comes from the Holy Spirit and all the credit belongs to God. That’s no lie. Praised be his name! I’m just his servant. But shit, I wrote twelve thousand words last night. Fucking great stuff, too. Man! I am a genius! Over and Out!

Slim

to: CC14

re: Hannah Marie

date sent: December 21, 1999

Lisa got what she wanted. And your turn is coming. Shit, I can’t believe she cursed me through labor. I thought that Lamaze shit was a fad from the eighties or something. When it’s your turn, I advise you to avail yourself of painkillers, or get a spinal block. Why suffer needlessly?

Yrs,

Dukester

P.S. Do not tell me the kid’s name. I don’t want to know names, remember? That was part of the deal. Don’t start violating rules this early in the game. I know you’re a woman and have poor impulse control, but don’t fucking do it. I’m serious.

Duke

to: CC14

re: 19,000 Words

date sent: December 22, 1999

Hey, I’m a genius, what more can I tell you? Not only that, I’ve got myself a new little baby—you know, a “baby.” LOL. She’s cute as hell. When I feel this good I have so much confidence I can pick them up in supermarkets, take them home, and fuck them on the floor while the ice cream melts in the grocery bag. Heh heh. Nookie. To get it, you will tell any lie, do whatever—the feeling of power is so incredible. I’m totally stoked. I have never been so happy in all my life. It’s like the veil has been lifted and I can suddenly see. Life is grand, babe! I’m a happy fucking guy.

Yrs,

Hanoi Harry

to: CC14

re: New Babies

date sent: December 23, 1999

Hey, babe. Pissy? Don’t get that way. It’s just pussy. I told you that our three-way in Iowa City was all about you. Lisa was a flop. You were the one. You were the star. This new stuff is just fool’s play. A diversion. Frivolous folly.