For me it was always their story. These two guys, travelling together for years and decades over countries and continents finally going down, wildly outnumbered, in Bolivia, but they had done what F. Scott said you couldn't do, be American and have a second act in life, because when they fell they were legends again, as famous in South America in 1911 as they had been in their great days in the Old West nearing the turn of the century. I was moved when I first read about them, always will be. Have no idea really why. (That may sound odd but it happens to be true. Today, their journey is familiar....
Since this entire book is clearly not without ego, I'm sure you won't be surprised if I start quoting myself.
Note: William Goldman is so good:
I don't understand the creative process. Actually, I make more than a concerted effort not to understand it. I don't know what it is or how it works, but I am terrifed that one green morning it will decide to not work anymore, so I have always given it as wide a bypass as possible.
Note: More wisdom from William Goldman:
So I did something of which I am genuinely proud. I bought the book back from the studio, with my own money. I think they were suspicious I had a deal or some plan. I didn't. I just didn't want some fuckhead destroying what I had come to realize was the best thing I would ever write. After a good bit of negotiating, it was again mine. I was the only fuckhead who could destroy it now.
Note: I love this so much: