I continue to work hard on The Fall. The weird thing is, I can see the whole thing in my head. I just can’t get it out.

So my husband interrupted my hard-scrabble attempt to finish another chapter by dragging me off to a car dealership. It seems my hardened hatred of our 12-year-old minivan finally got through to him, and four hours and 9,273 signatures later, we drove off the lot with a brand new (only had 6 miles on it!) Elantra.

Here it is, our new ride, before they took it down to the service area for detailing.

I spent most of those 4 hours trying to limit the number of times I said, “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” to my husband. Seriously. I thought he was going to drive that stupid minivan until hell froze over.

He still might. See, in the background, that white minivan with a dent in its fender? Yeah. We didn’t trade it in.