This was for the NPR. I didn't win. It wasn't much of a bummer- more like a dissapointment, because it would have been fun to win. But I managed to write this while I was still scared to open a word document...But the truth is....

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I’ve never been very good at short stories. Once I handed one in to my editor, and he did his best to politely say that it was awful.

Awesome.

So I stuck to novel writing. It’s a bit much at times, dry and boring at others and it’s really no way to make a living when you need money. Cranking out word after word, not knowing whether it was going to be your next big break or just a whole lot of nothing. ‘Cause really, you have no idea what you did is a big waste of time or not until after you do it. But I guess that’s just the peril of living.

Which reminds me of a quote some old guy said, “If I had more time, I’d make this shorter,” Or something like that, but since I’m running out of oxygen, I don’t really have ample time to fool around like that. But I need to make it short and simple, since I only have this tiny scrap of paper.

Hold on. There. I just wrote “Need Help” on it, in my tiniest and neatest handwriting. Now I’m going to slip it under the door and hopefully somebody finds it before its too late. Ideally, someone will come by and unlock the door…but since I’ve been pounding on it for the last seven hours it doesn’t look too good.