The Cookbook That Needed Drama

Anton Chekhov said if there's a gun in act one, it must fire in act three. My gun: introduced page 1. Never mentioned again. Pure suspense. Reader still waiting. Book ended in 1987.

Chapter ending: cliffhanger. Chapter 2 ending: cliffhanger. Chapter 3 ending: cliffhanger. Chapter 47: protagonist still falling. I forgot to catch him.

Writing retreat roommate also writes. 5am: typing. Noon: typing. Midnight: typing. Me: zero words. Roommate: 47,000 words. Checked roommate's screen. Same sentence. For three days. Copying it.

'Your villain needs motivation.' Added tragic backstory. 'Too sympathetic now.' Made him kick a dog. 'Too obvious.' Fine. He collects NFTs. Perfect villain. No notes.

Audiobook narrator called. 'Character names?' Read them. 'How do you pronounce Kx'thaal'vorn?' 'However you want. He dies page 3.' 'He comes back page 400.' Didn't remember writing that. Checked manuscript. Didn't.

Publisher: "We need a blurb." Asked famous author. Response: "Didn't read it." Asked another. Response: "Started it." Asked third. Response: "Finished it. Thoughts: numerous. Printable: none." Back cover now reads: "A book. — Three Authors"