A few seconds after posting the rant below I realised how, just a few months ago, I mercilessly mocked the gentleman with the rum 'n' coke as he attempted to engage me in a conversation about the woes of the Indian writer (boo hoo).
Can I find redemption for my behaviour in the fact that he's one of those unpublished novelists, while my work actually sees the light of day? :D
FINE! I'm a two-faced hack who will never have her 3.5 children. Consider me chastised. Condemn me to that dark place where egotistical writers go to when the booze finally shift+deletes their livers into oblivion...
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