The Greatest Novel Ever Written

Ezra awoke in a pool of his own sweat. Clumsily his hand swatted about the floor until it was able to rip his phone free of its charging cable. His finger swiped lazily across the screen. It was eight am on a random Tuesday in July. Nothing special. At least not for the rest of the world. For Ezra this was a day that would live in infamy. It was a day over a decade in the making. Today was the day he was going to start writing the greatest novel ever written.

Ezra had it all meticulously planned out. He had perfectly crafted the plots and subplots, the drama, intrigue, scheming, twist and turns. His army of complex characters were fully fleshed out and ready to be unleashed. He had even imagined a thousand years of lore just to sprinkle it in and texturize his stunning, fantastical world.

It was a novel that would revolutionize the country, maybe even the entire globe. Take the reader onto a metaphorical journey that would forever transform them. It would challenge societal views, force debates, break the current divides and inspire future storytellers for centuries to come. It was truly going to be an epic in every sense of the word.

But first Ezra had to figure out why his phone kept beeping after he had shut off his alarm. He looked at the device in a mixture of tiredness, confusion and annoyance. Then he realized that a menacing red triangle was the culprit. He tapped on the icon. It was an urgent message from the weather services. A severe heat warning. According to them, today was going to be the hottest day of the year.

Of course it was. Even the heavens were afraid of how amazing his story was going to be. But it was going to take more than a heat wave to stop him. Ezra sprang from his bed, took a seat at his computer desk, cracked his knuckles and his neck and quickly opened a blank word document. It was going to happen, he was about to begin changing the word, but his phone had other plans. It vibrated and its screen lit up repeatedly.

Maybe it was important, maybe his dad had another heart attack, or his mom had another car accident, or his sister got fired from her job. He had to check. It would be irresponsible not to, right? Ezra unlocked the phone and blew out a sigh of relief; it was just a notification that there was a new episode of the Joey Coogan podcast available.

Joey Coogan used to be Ezra’s favorite podcast host. Recently Joey had slipped too far down the conspiracy rabbit hole. Ezra knew he could change that. He often fantasized about it while driving to work. Once he had written the greatest novel ever, Joey would have to invite him onto the pod as a guest. Ezra knew he would kill it. He would be charismatic, funny, and philosophical. People would clip parts of his episode and post them to Nurv@na. Finally everyone would see him in the same light as Plato, or that other philosophy guy that one rapper used to talk about. 

Speaking of rappers he needed to update his playlist. Maybe even make a new playlist. A writing playlist. Yeah that was a great idea. He just needed to find the perfect songs. Shouldn’t take that long.

When he was done constructing the perfect playlist his eyes glanced at the top of his phone's screen. 9:45am read the digital numbers. Ezra gulped, that had taken him longer than he thought. It was fine, he still had the whole day in front of him. But then came another notification, this time from his Nurv@na app. Alley Hazel had a new post. Ezra couldn’t miss that.

Alley Hazel was after all the perfect woman. She was beautiful, funny and down to Earth. She would never be interested in a guy like Ezra though. At least not as he was now, but after he wrote the greatest novel, well that would be a different story entirely. Then Alley would see him. She’ll be so surprised when she finds out that the author of the greatest novel had been following her for all these years. Then she would definitely follow him back. She’d probably even DM him. Ezra of course would reply with something witty, something that would win over her heart. Yep, it was definitely going to happen, he thought as he once again scrolled through all her posts. Oh, but there was something different this time. A link. She had done it. Alley Hazel had made an OnlySpicy account. Ezra had to check that out. How could he not. She might be his future wife after all.

Three hours later Ezra was a couple hundred dollars poorer, but his mind was at least clear. He was ready. It was for real this time. He was going to start. But it was so hot. Unbelievably hot really. Was his AC even working? He had to check that out.

His thermostat seemed to be working just fine, but his vents weren’t blowing as strong as he remembered them blowing last year. Maybe they were all dirty. It had been a long time since he cleaned them. He had to do that, or else he would never be able to focus on his writing.

Two hours into his cleaning efforts a new realization smacked him in the head. Filters. You have to change the filter on the big thingy in the garage every couple of years, or so, right? Maybe that was why his AC wasn’t working as well as it should.

The big thingy in the garage seemed like a simple appliance, but it turned out to be quite the daunting foe. He unscrewed several panels before he finally read the writing on the side which directly pointed to where the filter was located.

With the old filter in tow Ezra took a quick trip to the hardware store. He looked through the aisles several times before almost accidentally stumbling across the filters. Then he proceeded to stare and scrutinize each and every one trying to find the perfect match. Finally happy with his selection he paid and hopped back into his car.

A sense of dread hit him as the car’s clock revealed that it was now 5:55 pm. How could that be, where had the day gone. It was ok though. He still had more time, all he had to do was start writing. That was the hardest part. As long as he started then everything else would surely flow afterwards.

Or maybe he was just thinking about too much stuff and he needed to slow down his brain. And there was one sure fire concoction that always slowed down an overly active mind. Beer.

An hour later Ezra found himself in his backyard. With the satisfaction of his filter being successfully changed and a nice cold beer in his hand, he sat back in his lawn chair and relaxed. It was then that he remembered that the fourth season of his favorite series was supposed to be available to stream today. He rushed inside, plopped down on his couch, turned on his TV and there they were in all their glory. All eight, hour long, episodes ready for his enjoyment. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to just watch one episode and have just one more beer. Then he could start.

Six episodes and six beers later Ezra found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. It was late now. Really late and Ezra had work in the morning.

A sense of shame briefly washed over him. Another day had slipped away. Another chance to begin physically working on the greatest novel ever had vanished. But it was ok. There would always be another Tuesday, and another, and another, and another, right?