In an account of ghostwriting for students (i.e., term-paper factory) the following story stood out:
Although my university experience did not live up to its vaunted reputation, it did lead me to where I am today. . . . I was determined to write for a living, and, moreover, to spend these extremely expensive years learning how to do so. When I completed my first novel, in the summer between sophomore and junior years, I contacted the English department about creating an independent study around editing and publishing it. I was received like a mental patient. I was told, “There’s nothing like that here.” I was told that I could go back to my classes, sit in my lectures, and fill out Scantron tests until I graduated.
Inconvenient human nature. He wanted to learn something the school didn’t formally teach. The school controlled something precious that he needed — time. The rest of his life was at stake, but it wouldn’t give it to him.
His college was like a diet without necessary nutrients. It stunted growth.