One day your mother will ask
you how the writing’s going, and you will say, “Fine,” and she’ll pause
and say, “Maybe you should consider teaching.”
One
day you will lose all interest in Gertrude Stein and say so
belligerently after you get too drunk at a literary party, where
everyone has been published except for you.
--"Fortune Cookies," The New Yorker, by: Iris Smyles
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