Letter from an Unknown Writer
We met one night at a book launch,
we drank, we talked, we laughed.
I said, “I’m writing a novel,”
and you said, “Send me a draft.”
So I sent it to your address
hoping a well-placed word
from you would get me started;
I waited, but never heard.
Now you’ve published your latest
and the critics all hail you in print.
It’s a runaway bestseller
and Hollywood’s taken the hint.
I read it myself last weekend
and my entrails turned to stone—
my book, but so badly rewritten,
you’d almost made it your own.