A WHILE AGO, a writer I know received an effusive e-mail from a young stranger who claimed to be an admirer. The admirer professed that she had always wanted to meet the writer. Not only had she read his books, she had once sat next to him in a café. She punctuated these confessions with exclamation points, OMGs, smiley faces, and exhortations of friendship. The writer did not reply. Then, the two happened to meet, whereupon the admirer told the writer that she had been sincerely hurt by his silence, convincing him all the more of her insincerity. He felt guilty and Facebook-friended her, which she declined.
Read Full Article »
