Dave sees life as a theatrical performance; he's in the audience, but he didn't buy a ticket. He's not interested in the show, and nothing he can say or do will disrupt the story on the stage. What's to stop him from getting up and leaving? What's to stop him from walking through the door with the exit sign over it? Note: Exit Sign is literary fiction and a psychological drama. It's the first novel I ever wrote. The story is personal, and I'm proud of what's in there. It's been described as Seinfeld meets Sartre and as My Dinner With Andre meets Ralph Bakshi. My goal was to write a story full of sincerity while exploring the heaviness of the human experience. I wanted to write something that helps people wrestle with dread and meaninglessness. Writing Exit Sign certainly helped me figure out a few things in life, so I'm hopeful that it will do the same for a diligent reader. I'll write the sequels one day, but in the meantime I'm focused on my pulpier stories.  I wrote Exit Sign for everyone who hates working in a drive through. Just keep going. Keep going forward. You might suffer, but if you love your friends and family along the way, it's worth it. The novel is complete, so there will be regular updates until all of it is posted.