Saturday, March 28, 2009

So I was talking the other day to a novelist somewhat younger than me--an excellent fellow and writer, by the way--and he asked me when my current novel was set.

"The 1970s," I said.

"Oh!" he said. "Have you done a lot of research?"

I didn't know how to answer that. Finally I said, "I was alive during the 70s."

"I was alive for part of them," he said. "I was born in 1974."

"I was born in 1966," I said.

He looked a bit shocked, and then said, "I'd love to know the name of your moisturizer."


I may well do some research, but it's not one of those, "And then I opened the fridge, which was avocado. My brother said, 'Let's go to the movies! I want to see--what's it called? Star Wars?'" kind of 1970s novels.

1 comment:

Lise said...

So I was teaching my MFA creative writing class last night at Rutgers. We were discussing childhood memories, and I offhandedly said to a student,"So you want to think about the culture of the 1970s...." "Please!" she said, greatly insulted. It hadn't occurred to me that anyone in a masters program could have been a child, say, yesterday.