This was my last book which I took from the Carnegie library in Melbourne. I picked it up in a hurry and thought it would be all about writers (which it was) and would be very interesting. The mix of writers was an eclectic mix - highbrow as well as those who did know what they were capable of. The writing circle also came along with something of a handicap in the form of partners of the writers and the families of the writers and though this was part of the history of each individual writer, it also took away from their writing in this particular case.
Growing animosity within the group, the forming of cliques and sidelining one of their number, a charge of plagiarism and the manner in which it was done was all part of the story. How the plagiarism was handled by the rest of the writers and how they rallied around the writer who was the victim formed part of the ethics of writing.
Lots of broken hearts, emotion in every form, viciousness amongst partners form the background to the story. The book did not do anything much for me. I expected too much from the writers. My fault for keeping writers on a pedestal. Here most of them had feet of clay.