Headbutts, snark and furious obsession: a toxic history of literary rivalries | Books | The Guardian

This author's book launched in the same week as mine. It was nothing like my book, a memoir based on lists written by my grandmother, so its existence should not have troubled me, yet my writing life somehow became combatively interwoven with his. I had a review in a broadsheet; the next week he had a full-page spread in the same paper. I did a radio interview; he appeared on the same show. Every time I read about his achievements (pretty much every time I checked his social media), it diminished my own. It was like a nasty bruise I couldn't resist pressing.