Ick yes,
With the possible exceptions (alongside "Misery") of "Finding Forester" as a film, and "What a Carve Up" as a book; just because Jonathan Coe manages to make the writer in that such a self-concerned, miserable egocentrist that it works as a piece of irony.
What a horrible thought though, for a writer to lose interest in the world outside. That's like a surgeon only caring about her/his own body isn't it?
Does it perhaps come from that often damningly narrow instruction to "write what you know"...?
Hmm, in my case that would be lots of stories about 4 walls and two cats then
And isn't that thing about 1st person narrative just a little too narrow as well? It would involve re-writing "Moby Dick" wouldn't it? ("Call me Ishmael - aka prisoner number 546732..."???)
Sigh. Ralph climbing down off her soap box now...