I can't say Im bitter as I sit here listening to the expert on stage. No, I’m not bitter, but I am—uncomfortable. My insides all twisted up as I stare at him, watching him strut the stage and tell his story of success. I came here to be inspired. I think of the novel Im writing. The first draft is almost done, an accomplishment I thought impossible a year ago, and now my draft cowers pale, and shabby, and make-believe next to this expert and his millions of copies sold. I know I shouldn’t compare, but I do.