Dreams into nightmares
When I was a kid, aeons ago, I had this dream of being discovered. I'd write something good enough, someone in the industry would pick me. A phone call would come, or a letter, and then that'd be the star of a successful writing career, become a real writer and all that...
Or that I could be friends with some illustrator and do some great comic together.
These days, it seems, everybody is trying to pick me up with obviously AI pitches, flooding my inboxes with a continuous flow of treacherous slop. The fact that it's, to this date, always in English, and my firm belief that I cannot become a fiction writer in that language... well all that protected me for falling in that pit.
Oh... I woke up today wishing it was Monday.
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