Here comes the hard part. The final sub-editing part, where I correct grammar, spelling without actually going too much into the story or the presentation. That’s all settled and cast in stone by now. I’d rather not change that. It means a lot of heartbreak because of the disgust of having to sit for long time in one spot and having to concentrate. Many times I reach for the desktop where I have internet and log-in to Facebook. Should I? Shouldn’t I? My hand is poised, hovering, approaching the mouse, withdraws and then in a decisive move I move the small rat-like contraption and “Click.” Another few hours lost. That’s my Facebook addiction. I can’t avoid that from happening. At least the novel is about the man who started this addiction, which I have named Facespook. It’s because the man who initially steered the idea of Facebook, or, its precursor Harvard Connect, was an Indian.