they decide to trade. She gets his house, his salary, and his Tesla for the rest of the semester, while he gets a job washing dishes in a Chinese restaurant and lives in the illegal unheated garage she and her roommate call home. And then things get really complicated. And sexy.
The book I had in mind would not be very good. It would be better than everyone else's books but it wouldn't be very good. I was aiming for broad market appeal, shameless pandering to middlebrow tastes and prose more meretriciously sentimental than a whore on wharf. The book would be fast and it would be short. It would be published under a penname. It would help me to get by.
Over the years it has been beaten into me that it is unequivocally better to have no publication credits than it is to publish something on your own.