How’s a young writer supposed to stay afloat?

Answer: have richer parents. Or don’t go to school. Or take advantage of the lockdown. Or something. Ah, so THOSE are the things I did wrong… Will have to remember that for next time. Full disclosure: I was 14 in 1985.

I am used to working and living precariously. There is a numbing sensation that comes gradually with scaling one’s living standards down and down until the basic elements of roof, roughage, bicycle and broadband come to seem like wins. It’s possible to live like this for brief period when working intensely; otherwise, it’s not. A person, especially as they age, needs security. But entrapment in eternal adolescence has long been a condition of making art, and is now also a condition of having been born after 1985.

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