A writer you know – maybe a friend, maybe a colleague – just got that coveted publication, that prestigious award, that engraving of their likeness in the Parthenon.

You should be happy.

This is not the kind of writer you are. And by you, of course, I mean me.

You love your writing community.

You see right through the imaginary scarcity projected by the [capitalist, patriarchal, noncreative, hunger games-ish, ismic] society upon the [artist, writer, musician, photographer, bringer of light].

When a writer you know and love gets published, it’s a victory for the team. Their triumph is yours. You TOTALLY get this needless competition thing, totally.

If you’re the kind of writer who can skip nimbly from the news of your colleague/friend’s success to sympathetic joy every single time, please stop reading now. Pretend we never had this conversation.

But if you struggle, come out here where all the…