If asked whether I suffer from the condition commonly known as JK Rowling Envy, I can't say no.
Like any other writer who is not JK Rowling, I can't say no because my teeth are so tightly gritted in a smile of good sportsmanship that tiny fragments of enamel are given off into the atmosphere, and if I opened my mouth any further a long howl of anguish would be released, tapering into a convulsive whimper, punctuated with deliriously mumbled statistics. 325 million copies. 65 languages. A thousand million dollars. A million billion roubles. Gazillion fantabulon megayen... more
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