These days I'd like nothing more than to be able to write an epic novel that confounds critics and is generally inscrutable to the general public. After years of public speaking tours and millions of copies sold, most of them to unsuspecting university students since the novel is part of the curriculum, I would be standing at a podium addressing a gaggle of elite academics. I imagine most of them would be either stroking beards or leaning forward on a balled up fist, listening intently.
I would be introduced.
I would approach the podium and offer a brief reading.
Some earnest doctorate student would stand up to ask a question.
"But what does it all mean?"
And I would say, "It's a metaphor for maple syrup."
At which point I would kick the podium over and disappear. Stage right.
