It was a utopian future for writers. The invention of the wordmill – nicknamed the "Silver Egghead" – did all the hard work, grinding out endless stories for an insatiable public. All the writers had to do was cash their checks and pose for publicity photos. One day the writers revolted. The time had come to get back to business, so they destroyed the wordmills. Then they discovered that they had nothing to say.
Пока отзывов к этой книге нет.