I burned about half-a-million words today, the three novels of mine "Santeetlah", "Please Release Me", and "Fuzzy Mirror". Not permanently, of course. For two years I have been saving all the printed out versions of the novels, editing them with red ink, and stacking them in the corner of my home office. I kept saying I would use the paper for something - packing boxes to ship, scratch paper, cleaning windows. I finally realized it would take three lifetimes to use that much paper. I hauled it out to the backyard and set fire to it in a metal trashcan. Worked great. It was strangely satisfying to read snippets of writing while I burned the pages. The stack was about knee hige - I'm guessing a half million words total.
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