George is too afraid to be an artist. She is reduced to a quaking wreck at the sight of a paintbrush. One time, just a whiff of turpentine caused her such a fright that she didn't make a noise for almost a week. She stands outside art galleries shivering, too timid to cross the threshold, and then slinks back to her laptop to write an art history essay. She has edited the Oxford Review of Books and her writing has appeared in the Literary Review and LUX Magazine.