No country for a screenwriter

Cutting room floor

In one swift motion, my large glass of water dumped all over the keyboard and seeped through every letter down to the motherboard. I heard an almost electric bubbling inside, sounds of murder, as I quickly turned my Macbook upside down and a disconcerting flood of water poured out. Later
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How I became a Nhà Viết Văn

When I was a little girl, about 8 or 9, I stumbled across a yellowed, pocketbook version of L.M. Montgomery’s “Anne of Green Gables,” a story about a spirited, redheaded orphan. I fell in love with Anne Shirley, whose good intentions and misadventures charmed me. Her romantic and poetic voice
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