Good authors whose work you love have no right to stop writing and/or die… until you die.
People who have rented you a house for many happy years – have no right to sell the darn place so you have to move at great inconvenience and expense.
New Zealand publishers have no right to reject your brilliant NZ-backgrounded book, even when it’s then snapped up by US publishers.
Small cute dogs have no right to act like a large ferocious dog and bite when you stop to pat them.
The cat you praise for every dead mouse/rat offered has no right to offer little dead birds as an alternative.
editors have no right to edit your work into something totally different…and then expect you to be happy that at least it’s being published.
If you prefer to write work that has no sex/violence, publishers have no right to reject it on those grounds.
If you prefer to write work that is full of sex/violence, publishers have no right to reject it on those grounds.
If you prefer to write work that has gay characters, publishers have no right to reject it on those grounds.
In fact, publishers have no right to reject work…until they go bankrupt which may not take long.
a writers’ organisation has no right to offer memberships at triple the cost when they give no more benefits than the cheaper one.
The NZ Government has no right to provide a superannuation so low a recipient may have to choose between food and heating.
And, life has no right to be unfair to me. Okay, to others, but not to me!
(And no, half that happened to others, not to me, but it still isn’t RIGHT!)