Ghost Rider. Night Rider. Why wasn't there ever a super hero or talking car named Re-Rider? It's simple. It'd be boring as fuck. The talking car would drive forward a mile. Then, the car would drive in reverse over that same mile stretch of track. Then, the car would drive forward a mile over the same stretch of track. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Think NASCAR, but in hell. No white trash bystander distractions. No chance of a fatal explosion. Just monotony.

I am the Re-Rider. And I am hard at work re-writing my book. I read a page. I make edits. I re-read that same page. I make more edits. I re-re-read the same page. I make edits to my edits.

I get disgusted and decide my original edits were bad, my second edits were okay, but my third edits were absolutely unnecessary.

Then, I re-read the page and make a fourth round of soul-killing-yet-affirming edits. I un-split infinitives. I misuse semicolons. I un-splice commas in the middle of sentences. I misuse more semicolons. I open the new Murakami novel. I blankly stare at the letters connected to one another on the paper page and consider jumping back into it. I blink. I put down the new Murakami novel. I return to comma splices.

Get the picture?

Right now, I feel one major tension: keep the text tight, action packed, and quick moving, or give some long and thoughtful analysis on players, conspiracies, etc. Some of the books on this topic go into such minutiae it would make an amoeba squint. Other books are long-winded on conclusions, but gloss over facts.

I'm leaning towards tight and to the point. Except for that needlessly second half of the last sentence sentence. And that last sentence. And...