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But all three of those people sent me e-mail that was much more grateful than the first group's, because they felt I had actually engaged. If there's one thing that helping, column writing and dating have taught me is that people love it when you're a jerk.
Even Cassandra. Eventually, I asked her if she had noticed that I was spending more time helping the children. Amazingly, she hadn't. "I thought you were working on your script. Or watching extra porn," she said. "I have no idea what you do all day. For all I know, you have a second family." If I did have a second family, I hope my second wife would be more careful when talking in front of our second 4-year-old so I wouldn't have to answer the question "What's extra porn?" I also hope my second 4-year-old would be smarter and not accept the answer that I was "eating extra corn" because corn helps me deal with the anxiety of a blank page.
But I still resented the time I spent helping people, possibly because the people I was helping--the ones I always help--were the pushy ones who had asked for help. "I hate the fact that it's inequitable that way," said Grant. "I had a guy e-mail me and say, 'I want to be a millionaire. Can you help me?'" Grant took a firm stance and only e-mailed that guy back once.
So I've started to offer selective help, to people on Facebook and Twitter who are writing college essays. And it feels as good as giving is going to feel for me, since I'm not a doctor, a solar engineer or a producer of corn. Tiny acts of kindness do make the world more pleasant. Luckily, my second wife understands that.