Why do I keep evading my work? Is it because I’m afraid of being confronted by my lack of abilities?
Don’t you ever get scared?” I ask. “Of what?” She says. “Of not being good enough.” “You mean at writing?” L’il asks. I nod. “What if I’m the only one who thinks I can do it and no one else does? What if I’m fooling myself-“...
Why shouldn’t I? I demand silently. Why shouldn’t I become a famous writer? Like Norman Mailer. Or Philip Roth. And F. Scott Fitzgerald and Hemmingway and all those other men. Why can’t I be like them? I mean, what is the point of becoming a wr...
Sex. It's the biggest sham of all. I mean, your life, all you ever hear is how you're supposed to save yourself for marriage. And how its so special. And then you finally do it. And you're like, "that it'? This is what everyone's been raving about?
