Want to know what it feels like to get a work of fiction published?

Writing the book is easy, ya, but getting it out on the shelf is as painful as attaching a Guinea Pig directly to your scrotum, then force feeding it bananas laced with PCP, mixed with the pure distilled essence of evil and hate of a wolverine in heat, then subjecting the Guinea Pig to a strip-dance given by a shaved monkey that was crossbred with the fruit of the ugly tree.