The meaning of life is coming apart.

And it always has been! And this is such an important thing to remember in your writing career and everything else.

This week’s letter is going to be a quick one: a function of being wildly behind on my manuscript reading for clients and also depressed about :gestures out the window: and the seemingly irrepressible savagery of humanity. (The second thing is not exactly helping the first.) (If you’re waiting on a read from me, thanks so much for bearing with. Not going to make you wait much longer.)

I want to share with you something that I find oddly comforting when I’m sad about the world’s limitations and/or my own. I want to share it with you in case you’re feeling sad right now, too—but also because it’s something writers must understand, at least subconsciously, in order to be truly great at their craft.

Added bonus: understanding this thing, really internalizing it, will help stave off insanity if you happen to be a perfectionist people-pleaser trying to make a go of a successful career in book publishing.

You ready? OK, here it is: