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.