When I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in English at age 21, I had no money in the bank, bleak job prospects, and an aging Oldsmobile Super 88 that was leaking oil and was not so "super" anymore.

After answering a want-ad in the newspaper for a writer — flexible hours, competitive salary — I put on my Montgomery Ward graduation suit and drove to an office building downtown for an interview.

The president of Term Papers Inc., hired me on the spot after declining to review the stack of writing samples I brought. Instead, he handed me an initial assignment to write a research paper about Bantu education in South Africa for a client who was an anonymous graduate student.

When the president assured me the work was as legitimate as what speechwriters did all the time for politicians (his c

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