I feel like I sort of missed the eighties. At the time, we didn't know we were having fun, which is probably the way it always is.
The Term Paper Artist' represents two models of writing, one of the little boy bouncing his ball, generating stories for the sheer pleasure of it, and the besieged adult, writing to make a living, having to contend with a very competitive, very unreliable world in which public image counts.

