Année : 2004

Quelqu’un a essay� de cr�er un compte sur Yahoo en utilisant mon adresse de courriel. Je le sais car Yahoo m’a fait parvenir un courriel pour confirmer l’inscription. Le nom d’utilisateur choisi par cette personne est:

je_taime_toujour2002

Message d’un ex amoureux?

Peu probable. Mes amoureux n’�taient peut-�tre pas parfaits mais en g�n�ral ils savaient �crire sans faire de faute.

Mise � jour, 18h30: Le fin finaud vient maintenant d’utiliser mon autre adresse de courriel pour essayer de cr�er un compte Yahoo, toujour(s) avec le m�me mot d’amour. C’est quelqu’un qui s’acharne contre moi ou bien c’est une nouvelle forme de scam (ou de spam)?

Severe rainstorm warning.

Heavy humidity in the air.

Feeling very hot and lazy.

If there’s anything writers are more neurotic about than writing, it’s money. Only a fortunate few can actually make a living from writing, and the struggle to support a career that offers no guarantees, no benefits, and no security makes most writers more than a little anxious. Always there is the hope of « hitting the jackpot, » having one’s work met with praise as well as an audience of some amplitude. […]

Writers should want money; writers deserve money. And I salute any writer who feels he is fairly compensated. But I will never believe that writers are motivated by money – at least not at the outset of their careers. Writers want love, and they hope that through their work, they will be recognized as special. And that is why most writers are crazy. When a writer gives his editor the pages of his manuscript, he is, in essence, handing over his heart on a plate. And until he gets a response, his entire sense of himself is in limbo. It’s like waiting for the results of a biopsy.

From The Forest for the Trees, by Betsy Lerner.