Murray Middleton considers himself uniquely qualified to write about the struggles of artists. He is a failed drummer. He has made short films that have been roundly rejected at festivals at home and abroad. He painted theatre sets for a decade, on and off, without exhibiting a bristle of aesthetic flair. Stand-up comedy has even been attempted. Miraculously, Murray has enjoyed some success as a writer, including winning a major Australian literary award. But he later passed a fellow winner of the award, several years his senior, in the confectionary aisle of a supermarket and noticed that they were wearing the same pair of purple Kmart shorts. In the moment, Murray understood that creative despair would always be his.