I am a writer, swimming in the shark-infested waters of the New York agency world. Some have said I sold my talent to corporate America; I say I rent it. Like a hooker does. They give me back my talent when I walk out the door, right before I pick my conscience up from the coat closet where I left it on the way in.

I’m a writer, so I’m poor. I’m from a small town, so I’m also naive. I live in New York, so I’m not likely to be nice to you.