The guilty pleasures of schadenfreude

I've long thought that plays about writers ought to be banned. With rare exceptions (none of which, admittedly, I can think of at this particular moment) they tend to trade on the romantic aura of writerly genius, blithely forgetting that being a writer is one of the dullest jobs there is, at least to an outside eye. Let's face it, a writer on stage pounding away at his typewriter/laptop is