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Horn sat in front of the open book - the blank page - staring at the thing as if willing it to speak. "It's important to start strong," Horn whispered (still staring), "so ... poison pen, fantasy fountain, or Bic? Cursed ink, glitter gel, or ballpoint medium blue?" Horn was the poster child of indecision for some time (until it was clear that choice was also a thief of joy and the only remedy was questionable rash action).