Pity me

I'm trying to rewrite a story that I wrote some two years ago and which sucked greatly in it's original version.
The problem is that the little shit is now trying to turn into a novel. I'm at 3000 words and it hasn't even begun, I just have all these leukemic kids in a stolen car in France on their way to nowhere. Death looms over them. In fact, Death is driving.
At the same time I'm reading Oracle Night by Paul Auster. Paul Auster is not the kind of reading you want to be doing when you want your plot to progress at a reasonable speed. So far, I've resisted the temptation to put footnotes in every page to illustrate the character's genealogy up to the upteenth degree, but I have quite a bit of exposition. I'm not sure how this will read when I'm not too tired to read.
The story looks fantastic, I'm not just sure I can pull it off
Pity me.

But, what the hell, here's to my Finnish friends