EAST ATLANTA—Late last night, police discovered the body of 35-year-old aspiring writer, Donald Miller, in his bed next to an unfinished suicide note. Miller, who had bored family and friends for years with details about the new genre-bending coming-of-age novel he was supposedly working on, was found clutching an empty bottle of Vicodin and some Wite-Out.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” wrote Miller before scratching it out and rewriting it three times, finally settling on, “It is with great sorrow that I” followed by a blob of correction fluid.
“I just can’t believe it,” said Miller’s mother, who no longer has to feign interest in the convoluted plotline to the story her son would routinely tell her he was so close to finally writing once he had time to really focus. “Why would he do such a thing?”
Upon viewing Miller’s internet browsing history, investigators found that while Miller usually spent 5-8 hours a day checking Facebook, neither his Twitter account nor his blog, “What To Expect When You’re Expecting To Write,” had a single entry.
His coworkers were similarly puzzled.
“Donnie? Oh my god, really?” asked his coworker, David Sutherland who, three months ago, was cornered in the break room and practically forced to read a couple pages of Miller’s book, then titled, Journey to the Center of the Soul.
Services will be held at Chestnut Hill Cemetery, where Miller has requested a nonexistent except from the open Word document he calls his book to be read.