I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted of having to defend fabulous women writers. The most baffling thing happened at work the other day. But when I say baffling I mean a totally normal occurrence because idiocy has gone viral. A man I work with happened to pick on Margaret Atwood. She happens to be a heroine of mine. She also happens to be brilliant. I believe he referred to her as a “crazy, old, feminist writer.” My heart sank. I can’t stand it when people use the word feminist as a derogatory term. Even better is that he hadn’t read a single book she’s written. I realized when I got home that this was a theme in my life. I have a string of very specific memories of men saying negative things about female authors. Usually specifically because they’re female. Can you imagine if I started saying things like “I won’t read his book because he’s a crazy, old, rich white guy!” Damn there goes the study of literature according to shitty professors (you know who I’m talking about, oh hell I may as well say it DAVID GILMOUR). Sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like to work in a female positive space where people say reasonable and intelligent things. It’s all personal, how could it not be? I don’t need everyone in my life to love my writing or my art, but it would be nice if they didn’t dismiss me because I’m a woman.