About as true to life as a velvet grape. And poets, too. Granted, she wins all the prizes, but talk about grandiose. Like back in the sixties when sex and war were the metaphors for consciousness-raising. He knows how to network, who to climb, and when.
Timing is everything.
I think it's just frayed nerves. Must be great to get away. She's eloquent enough, a nice cocktail poet. She says it's none of my business what she writes. A kind of masturbation.