“Do you enjoy being a writer, Mrs. Avery?” asked Julian. “No, of course not,” she said. “It’s a hideous profession. Entered into by narcissists who think their pathetic little imaginations will be of interest to people they’ve never met.” “But are you successful?” “It depends on how you define the word success.” “Well, do you have a lot of readers?” “Oh no. Heaven forefend. There’s something terribly crude about a popular book, don’t you think?” “I don’t know,” said Julian. “I’m afraid I don’t read very much.”
