This was it, this was the book that was going to make me famous! Christopher Hitchens had done a blurb for the cover: “The most compelling argument yet against the existence of God.” No more preaching to the choir (of atheists… ha!), I was going mainstream!
Then — heart attack at the fucking release party. One minute, everyone’s buzzing about the impact my book will have, the purity of the argument, and the next thing I know I’m waking up with some broad standing over me.
I would have thought the whole thing was just to fuck with me, but it would take a summer blockbuster budget to pull this off. All I see is sky. Brilliant blue sky, and white puffy clouds, and people everywhere in white robes. And this chick is fucking beatific.
“Are you sure I’m in the right place?” She assures me I am, tells me “He” wants to meet with me once I get settled.
I suddenly think of what that Focus on the Family prick said to me. “I hope the Lord’s punishment is equal to your sin.” And then I start to laugh.