I’m not sure I’m going to finish NaNo this year. Too much life going on, and possibly even some death. And if that doesn’t crimp your style, you’re a more dedicated writer than I am. But here’s some of what I’ve managed to produce today.

“Where do you see us in a thousand years, Andrew?” The question came out of nowhere, breaking the relative quiet of a wet Portland late fall afternoon. A heavy mist that aspired towards being called rain lent ambience to the day without actually inconveniencing anyone. Damp weather didn’t deter Andrew or Tara; any park bench they chose would be clean and dry no matter the season.

“I’d say, right over there.” He pointed to a bench at the other end of the park.

“Very funny. Ha ha.”

“Sorry, love.” Andrew sighed and looked heavenward for a long minute. “I’m not sure I understand the question, to tell you the truth.”

“I don’t know. I feel like nothing has changed in the last thousand years. It’s good. It’s great, actually. But is this it?”

He looked her in the eye and said, “Yes. This is it. You’re going to live as long as you want. You have love, and friendship, and the ability to do anything you want to do, any time you want to do it. The most dangerous thing someone in our position can do is start thinking that there always has to be something new. You can get addicted to ‘newness’ just as much as you can get addicted to booze or drugs.”

“What if it gets boring?”

“Then do something about it. Life is only what you choose to make it, remember?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “That’s one of her song lyrics, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but I’m sure she’d be just as mortified as you are that I’m quoting it in this context. And don’t change the subject.”

“I can if I want to.”

“But avoiding the issue only prolongs the unhappiness.”

“But…”

“And you can get addicted to unhappiness, too. Why else would so many people needlessly wallow in misery? I mean, yes, there’s more than enough genuine misery to go around. What the hell is your excuse, then? I could find a hundred thousand people in this city who would gladly kill to have your advantages right now, and your responsibilities are relatively light. To put it bluntly, you have no excuse.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair. And I’m tired of watching you mope about, wishing life would hand you something when you don’t even know what it is you want.”

“Oh, and you’re Mr. Perfect.”

Andrew laughed. “Didn’t you know? I thought everybody knew.”

“Stop that,” Tara said, but it was too late. She was already smiling.

I finally cracked 10,000 words, one full day behind schedule. Watch for me to be typing furiously this weekend, folks. I have a curve to get ahead of. Anyway, here’s an odd chunk of text I churned out tonight.

I also devoutly wish that upstart big-city tyrants-to-be would consider how much work it takes to rule an entire planet with an iron fist. If only they’d asked me, I could have saved them a great amount of trouble. Take it from me, folks. I have experience in this sort of thing. Just one example: You have to delegate authority. No, really. It’s been tried the other way and no matter how well you schedule your time you spend every waking minute making stupid, petty decisions. All day. Every day. And well into the night, most nights. So the delegating is good, but then you have another problem. Every person you give authority to is a potential usurper.

Remember, you’re dealing with a tyrancy. (Don’t tell me there’s no such word. I’ve earned the right to make one up if I damned well please.) Because you’re essentially a glorified thug, you have to hire thugs as your lieutenants. Thugs, by definition not gifted with an overabundance of imagination, are still bright enough to envision being the Head Thug In Charge. If they’re not that bright, why are you putting them into positions of authority?

Are you starting to see the problem yet? Good. I hope you keep this in mind if you’re ever faced with the task of subjugating a large population and ruling over it for any serious length of time.

Before you wax rhapsodic about how being the Head Thug In Charge would mean always getting to do whatever you want, think about the fact that there are petty and not so petty thugs all gunning for your job, all the time. And don’t forget all those decisions that have to be made. You can’t delegate all of it, or you’ll find that you’re no longer in charge, very quickly.

Are you still thinking about a life of tyranny? Then remember that you will be utterly and completely alone in the world. Yes, you’ll have your harem (or stable if you prefer) and your henchbeings and vast wealth and power… but not one friend. None. Everyone is either a threat to you or a threat to someone near you. If your friend is innocent, they will be eliminated by the competition, and no matter the consequences. If your friend isn’t innocent, well, can you completely trust them?

Love? Forget about it. A full thirty five percent of dead tyrants met their end in the bedchamber, and at least half of those fatalities were by the hand of the tyrant’s supposedly devoted spouse. I’m not even going to argue this point further.

So that’s what you have to look forward to. Hard work, paranoia, almost no time to yourself, and no meaningful relationships. Tyranny sucks. Take my word for it.