I received a letter from Alexandra, who says that while she enjoyed reading the opus, she regrets that she cannot offer me representation. I’m not sure she actually regrets it, but that’s what she wrote. The reality is, I suppose, that I am a straight white man with no diversity or disadvantage to offer as a salve for the fashionable collective guilt that rules publishing. I understand that popular correctness demands that men like me be denied to compensate for all the years in which we were given too much. I just wish I’d had a chance to enjoy a little of that privilege before it became a
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