It’s called a glass ceiling because it’s invisible. There’s no roid-filled, bicep-thrusting bouncer at the door denying you entry, just a mysterious mix of gender-flavoured factors that prevent ascension.
On the other side of this barrier are the Chosen, bathing in their power, chuckling smugly at those stuck outside. They’re definitely involved in unholy rites and they shun both the patriarchy and the razor.
Who's to blame for the gender inequity in publishing? Jessa Crispin talks to two publishers about the cultural barriers to entry for women writers. Read Post
He says, “Don’t make me hit you.” He may be ’roided out, judging from his Jose Canseco-like biceps. “Go ahead,” I hiss. “Show everyone on this street what a gentleman you are.” read more Read Post