I’ve seen Daddy sad because nobody buys what he writes. He studied hard and still studies hard, and the other day he had a fight with Lalau, who makes his book—his books, because Daddy has written lots and lots of books—on the machine—those men who make our books on machines are called publishers—but when Lalau isn’t here, Daddy calls Lalau all sorts of names that I can’t repeat.

HILDA HILST, O caderno rosa de Lori Lamby (São Paulo: Globo, 2005), 19.