At least, I wish more were. In trying to decide what to write about for the latest Slushpile, I pored over Best Of lists (still going strong on the cusp of February!),
As an apt follow-up to both my previous post about a writing career’s sure path to poverty, as well an earlier post about how an unknown writer’s first short story in the New Yorker led to a seven-figure deal with an S&S imprint,
The discussion about actor Alec Baldwin’s recently published memoir Nevertheless perfectly encapsulates why reasonable conversation is impossible in this culture at the moment.
