101 Reasons to Stop Writing

in 64AD, one of the earliest recorded Slushpile Bonfire Days gets out of control and torches almost a third of Rome over the next week. Historian Suetonius declares the occasion a qualified success, disposing of hundreds of stories about some Jew with magic powers. After the rubble is cleared, Emperor Nero builds the world’s largest Barnes & Noble.

In 1811, author William Makepeace Thackeray began his sacred mission to satirise the upper-class twits of English Society. The upper-class twits responded with their long-proven tactic to silence critics, blunting his satire with large quantities of cash.

In 1817, novelist Jane Austen stopped writing, in the most disagreeable fashion.

In 1899, novelist Horatio Alger Jr. finally gave up writing for dimes.

In 1925, the world’s biggest party pooper Adolf Hitler publishes the first volume of his whiny me-me-me moanfest Mein Kampf. Dictated while Hitler was in prison, the original manuscript contained several chapters which explained how he came to loathe large, hairy gypsies, and love men in leather uniforms.

In 1937, gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson began the long, exhausting process of drinking, smoking and injecting himself to death.

In 1938, renowned biblical scholar Paul Verhoeven was born. His blockbuster movies Robocop, Total Recall, Starship Troopers, Basic Instinct and Showgirls have built an elegant literary foundation for his forthcoming book Jesus The Man, a project he’s apparently been working on for a decade. (I wish I was kidding.)

In 2001, Bush critic and James Bond fanfic author James Hatfield quit pretending that he wasn’t a convicted felon. (His life story is like an abridged version of A Confederacy of Dunces.)