A failed New York playwright awkwardly navigates the transition from Next Big Thing to Last Year's News.

Libby: What about your family?
Imogene: Uhhm, I grew up in the Atlantic City area, near the beach, so...
Libby: Then every day was like summer, right?
Imogene: No, every day was not like summer; every day was like being impaled with a blunt wooden object, over and over again.
Libby: Anyway...

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