Whenever The Author was asked about where he got his ideas,
he’d make a joke about paying someone to come up with them. But if pushed, he’d
admit that he had a notebook, in which he would write down phrases, ideas or
even just words that pressed buttons in his head.
People expected it to be a battered, old notebook, given his
career length, or someone in leather and gold considering The Author’s cash
flow.
Actually it was a computer, and honestly, he didn’t really
need it, it just helped him focus.
At least, he thought so. Then it died…
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