THE MVP is trying to keeeeel me.

Someone wipe the drool of of that guy's faceTake a look at this picture of Mr. Fancy-Pants Author. Yes, that is me after a week of “hold onto your goods because the workload is going to plant a size 10 in your ding-ding” work.

This is another entry in the “where the hell has Scott been” department. For the past week, ARealGirl and I have been in the San Francisco studio recording THE MVP audiobook. It’s been a blast. This definitely falls into the “work hard, play hard, collapse due to stress and get shocked with those electrical thingies the doctors on TV use” kind of week.

On our best day, we recorded 153 pages. That’s 38,250 words in one day. In more understandable terms, that’s 273 minutes of podcast (my performance rate is about 140 words per minute of story). This is for standard manuscript pages, which are 250 words a page — at that size, THE MVP is 830 pages long, or a little bit less girthy than THE ALL-PRO.

My voice held up well, thanks to hot tea, cough drops, pineapple juice and lots (and lots) of water. There was also copious amounts of sushi from Sushi Rock, which makes a thing called the “Khotbito Roll” that is so good I would kill any of you for it. Sorry, that’s just the truth.

Keep in mind, that’s just recording. We still have to edit it and add sound FX, which takes about twice as long to do as the recording itself. So, we’re only 1/3 done.

So why am I so flippin’ tired? Well, I also wasn’t finished with THE MVP final draft. So, we record for 10-12 hours a day, then I go home and write for 4-5 hours, depending on when it’s time to pass out and piddle myself. I need a frickin’ nap, I tell ya.

But, we’re almost done! I finished THE MVP final draft last night. Today, ARealGirl is sending that to Ms.Information, our Diva øf Design, for layout, which means the book be in your hot little hands come September. What? You haven’t pre-ordered Book IV of the GFL sereis? Shoot, mang, click here and get crack-a-lackin‘!

We have 2-3 more days of the raw recording, and then I’m gutting a Ton-Ton, crawling into it’s smelly guts and taking a goddamn nap.


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