WRITER 1: What do you mean, "Write what you know"? If I wrote what I knew, I'd write about sunken couches and empty cashew tins.
WRITER 2: Yes. Do that. Because you have felt the couch. You have eaten the cashews. You know the taste of the salt on your fingers, the corduroy rub of the flattened cushion under your buttocks. That is real. That is pain. Write it. Write!
WRITER 1: I'd rather use my imagination and write what I don't know, thank you very much. I want to write about angels.
WRITER 2: Are you an angel?
WRITER 1: No. I mean, I'm not not an angel. Like, I'm not a bad person, or anything, but I'm not--
WRITER 2: How can you write about angels if you don't know what it's like to be an angel?
This isn't what "Write what you know" means.
