Megan Doty
read 78 pages in
Factotum
The myth of a the starving artist was a hoax. Once you realized that everything was a hoax you got wise and began to bleed and burn your fellow man.
That was all a man needed: hope. It was lack of hope that discouraged a man.
That scene in the office stayed with me. Those cigars, the fine clothes. I thought of good steaks, long rides up winding driveways that led to beautiful homes. Trips to Europe. Fine women. Were they that much more clever than I? The only difference was money, and the desire to accumulate it.