Dear Miss Snark,
This may be somewhat out of your purview, but I need your snarkiness right now.
What does one do when a terrible writer (sentimental claptrap!) gets appointed to a prestigious post, the holders of which are supposed to be chosen for their writing? There are lots of other talented writers who must have been considered for this post (I am not among them, so this is not a question of sour grapes), but this person was chosen. She schmoozes well, writes poorly, and publishes rarely.
How does one cope when things that are supposed to be about writing end up being about dog knows what instead?? I'm wishing I could jump off a bridge or drown myself in a pail of gin.
Reality bites, doesn't it?
It's never about the writing on stuff like this. Like Oscar isn't always about which movie was best. I mean really "Dances With Wolves" beat out "GoodFellas"??
Suck it up. Practice smiling pleasantly and saying "Yes, I hear hell is freezing over, I must go sharpen my skates".