Party party party

I went to a writers' party yesterday. Everyone there, apart from a couple of bemused and somewhat maginalised partners, was a writer.

So, for a few hours, we writers were the normal ones, and the rest of the world was out of step with us. Goodness, people can be so rude to writers. What's the best insult I've ever had? Oh, maybe the one which goes I'm going to write a novel one day, perhaps when I'm retired and have time for a new hobby, the implication being that novelists are hobbyists who toss off stories more or less in passing as they get the washing in, cook the dinner and feed the cat.

Well, those things do have to be fitted in, but novel-writing as a relaxing hobby? Yeah, right...