A Room Within fell off the list.

“We knew it would happen,” said Huxley. “That’s why we took this deal.”

Max turned three. It was hard to remember what it had felt like to be on top of the world.

Ferocious dreams visited Anthony in the night. You’re not good enough! thundered his father. You had just the one book in you, and now it’s over. You’ve spent it! Anthony was going to be a one-hit wonder: the “Tainted Love,” the “Come On Eileen” of the literary world.

Max turned four.

“They need to see a draft,” said Huxley. “They’re getting antsy. Whatever you have, let’s send it.”

How many books do you have in you? dream Anthony asked his dream father.

His dream father laughed so long and so hard Anthony could count his fillings: two on one side, three on the other. I have an unlimited number, said his father. They just keep coming and coming.

Anthony cowered under the covers, a little boy afraid of monsters in the closet. But you said I was good enough, that night when I was in college. Remember? When I brought you the story?

I never said that! Leonard Puckett’s voice rose and rose. I never ever ever ever said that. I never would. That story was nothing special.

Huxley emailed: How’s it going?

Great! emailed Anthony back.

Anthony took up drinking—it had always been a casual habit, weekends mostly, but now it felt like a second job. Alcohol softened the sharp angles of his stress, blurred the lines between can and cannot.

Geez, Dad, Anthony said in his dreams. Writing a book is hard!

Not for me, said dream Leonard. You’re not good enough. Not good enough not good enough you can’t do it you’re not good enough.

Only when Anthony was with Max did he feel okay. Max wrapped his arms around his neck and held on tight. “I love you, buddy,” Anthony said. “You can do anything you put your mind to,” he added.

“I know,” said Max easily. “I know I can, Daddy.”

The deadline drew closer and closer. Anthony thought about the book all the time. The plot curled itself around his thoughts like blood vessels around a tumor.

Huxley checked in: “The publisher is super-excited!”

“Great,” said Anthony. “I am too.” His voice was a stranger’s.

“We’re going to hit that deadline, right?”

“Of course we are.”

It was never too early to get some buzz going for a big book. Anthony’s editor sent him copy for Amazon, even though she hadn’t read a word. The long-anticipated follow-up to A Room Within! A second book that was better than its super-smash-hit predecessor!

Anthony dabbled in energy drinks, in caffeine pills. They made him too excited, so he dulled them with more alcohol.

His draft was almost complete. He wasn’t happy with it.

Huxley emailed. We need to send what we have.

One night Cassie went out for the evening. “Girls’ night out,” she’d said offhandedly. “Super-casual, dinner and drinks.” Her dress didn’t look casual, and she had on her highest heels. Anthony didn’t have the energy to figure out if she was lying. Thinking about the book took up every ounce of him.