I would do anything to help a friend. Need money? A shoulder to cry on? A place to stay? A confidant to confess to? I’m your man. Want me to read your new novel? Forget it. I would do anything for a friend, but as the late Meat Loaf would say: I won’t do that. Sorry. I’ve been there. Read that. And I’ve had enough.
Many years ago a really good friend showed me his first novel. It was so bad it left me speechless — but I had to say something. So I did the only thing a good and trusted friend could do: I lied. ‘It’s really funny and smart!’ I said.
Since then he’s written four novels, all self-published and each one worse than the last one. And every time he asks me for my opinion I say, ‘smart and funny’ or ‘funny and smart.’ He’s happy, I’m happy. But
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