Once there was a writer. Unlike the writer of this little thing, she was a very hard working, non lazy writer- she was a semi-pro, had had several articles in small concerns, suchlike. Anyway, she actually sent out articles, and some were published, and she rejoiced. But some were rejected- there were various reasons for this- sometimes, the articles were not up to par, other times, the magazine did not have room for her article, there were times when the article just didn't fit within the style of the magazine, sometimes the editor's sister in law's article preempted this writer's article, sometimes, the editor was simply an illiterate Philistine or an article similar to this writer's article was already planned. However, this writer kept on writing.

But, there was a problem. Her friends were full of shit. Everytime she got rejected, they would go around talking about how she didn't try hard enough, or that she was simply a horrid writer, despite the fact that even if an article wasn't up to par, that did not make all her writing bad. Anyway, one day in a fit of pique,she said 'hey, help me edit if it's so bad' and then her friends ran away and were never seen again.

This is a little parable, and I'll leave most of it as an exercise for the reader- but this parable has to do with help, problems in life, and the importance of not being an asshat who is full of shit. Also, the thing about the editor's sister in law- I don't know if that really happens or not. It just sounded good. This article also influenced the writing of this parable.