There are far too many accounts to be settled in my life. There is far too little Tao and also too little Zen.
Any attempt at a novel would quickly turn into a holocaust, a forum for the ruthless and unreadable crucifixion of everyone and everything that makes me even the slightest bit uncomfortable, not to mention those things that make me angry or that have caused me pain or suffering.
It would be a hail of bullets, like most of my life has been. Unpleasant and not particularly inspiring.