I regret to inform you that the name of the forthcoming book is unlikely to be 2029: A Foucauldian Analysis of Your Mother. It has a new, catchier name, with less emphasis on the works of Michel Foucault. "Then why write?" Then why write, indeed.
Today, I bought Sons and Lovers and some Edgar Allan Poe collection. Cruising down the freeway in a Chevy '69. Sad times in polynesia.