Sunday, January 26, 2014

Is this what life in that exclusive little club is really like?

"I’m supposed to write something just so revelatory and legendary and literarily touched that everyone goes ‘Wow she’s only twenty-seven?’ and then you reap these awfully grand rewards riding on my coattails and I do this all like in the next week before I become so irrelevant that they are like, ‘Lux who?’ and everyone just gets truly enriched, rich off all my writing genius, my creative boundary-stretching, draping on me extravagant compliments and all that good, solid, untrue, disingenuous shit, remember?", I slur on longwindedly, tauntingly, with feigned glorification, in a rhetorical-sounding, biting little question, challenging him to provide some kind of an adequate counterargument.

He cannot.