I have one--it's about 120 pages right now, and I constantly reword it to make it clearer. I spent about 6 hours this morning working on it. I'm actually fairly proud of its quality and think it's my best piece of writing. When I'm revising it, I usually envision it being read aloud, in its entirety, at my funeral, which I recognize is a sick thought, but it makes me really care about its logic and structure. Usually, I feel less suicidal after I work on it for a while, but for a rather perverse reason: I feel like I can't kill myself until the written product is absolutely perfect, and I'm never quite satisfied 100% with the explanation, and feel like there needs to be more said, so I never get around to doing the deed.