Yes, I completed my novel. And the kids remained healthy and happy. Other than that, 2009 goes down as the worst year since 1980, when my girlfriend was killed by a drunk driver, and 1983, when another girlfriend broke my heart into teensy-weensy tiny shards, stitched it back together, and broke it once again with piercing finality. TMI? Screw it, it's Thursday.
2009? A recession-wracked financial train wreck, Travener's life savings flitting out the door like so much laundry lint. A maddening search for an agent. Stress, worry, gloom.
So, 2009 -- fuck off and die.
2010's gonna be the year.