Day after day Arther grew more irritated as he couldn’t muster the guts to finish his novel. After basing the book vaguely on his childhood and early adulthood he couldn’t bring himself to finish the story. He tried to keep the core elements of his experiences in the book while changing minor details to keep the reader interested but now that the story had reached the climax he began to regret intertwining the tale he told so closely with his life. He needed to come up with a climax and resolution in the final chapters but the thought of ending the book the way his life turned out revolted him. Who would want to read a book about a man who failed to live up to the goals he had made, was cheated on and left by his one and only love, had no relationship with either of his children, was disowned by his family for his addiction problem, (more accurately it was ‘a failure to properly cope with his life crumbling apart’ problem), and now couldn’t even imagine a life interesting enough to finish his book with. Overcome with remorse he concluded he was being too hard on himself, that he should try to relax, have a drink, turn in early and finish the novel another day. Besides, he had his whole life to finish the story.