And I, in adventurous spirit, summoned a book by J.B.
Priestley from the local library. Having
read his bio, I considered his literary work to be worth a read.
The Good Companions
Unbeknownst to me,
time and location played a large part on his reviews. Across the pond and turning the calendar back
to 1929 gave Mr. Priestly a most favorable light, while I, on this side of the
pond, nestled in 2021 discover his work to be tedious and not at all worthy.
This, of course, has caused me to consider my own works in a
future light. Audiences, assuming physical books still exist, will no doubt see my humor as lame, my subject matter obsolete
and find references beyond obscure.
I am, however, a child of today and as such, must conform to
established standards, acceptable norms, and avoid the taboos that result in
failure. Too close to the margin often causes
vertigo, as I discovered while reading Priestley.
I should only recommend it should you be considering a mental journey which includes a supply of non-perishable Yoo-hoo, some cheese sticks and green peanut M&M’s. An endless supply of mental breadcrumbs wouldn’t hurt either.
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