A new twist to the book turned up this week. I don't know why it didn't occur to me earlier and I suppose the answer is that books are not like Venus on the Half-Shell. They, for me, do not arrive fully formed. They more or less fall together over time. Like a good wine, an idea needs to age.
That's not to say I haven't written books in 3 weeks and they've gone on to do quite well. I was there then, now I'm elsewhere.
I read somewhere in the last few days that 16% of the population is what drives Madison Ave. and the entertainment business. It's a very narrow age range consisting primarily of late teens to somewhere in the 20s. This is a group who feels (as I did, yes I said it and I routinely drove twice the speed limit, got cars airborne and on 2 wheels, like this reckless driving is a recent invention) they know everything. Well ya don't. Time, if allowed, is a great bestower of wisdom. You see how life works in the laboratory of your life. You will be smarter later. If you take time, step out of your echo chamber and expose yourself to real life, you will be smarter faster.
The result of all this is we get entertainment and products that appeals to a small segment of the population, one not routinely praised for their gravity. That's the audience for whom the poignant and thoughtful art film Hot Tub Time Machine was created. This is not to offend anyone in that age group (like Jess) who is visiting here. Obviously your fine and mature taste in blogs, demonstrates you are not of them.
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