There's this girl that I know from college- she was a year or so behind me, but we shared a lot of the same drinking buddies and Jew pals. We grew apart as we grew up, especially after I graduated and was no longer on 'the scene'. I have no idea if we'd have anything to really talk about anymore, other than college memories and people we know.
I randomly discovered that she has a blog now, one that she hopes to use (according to the blog itself) as a jumping off point for a book about being a twenty-something in the twenty-first century. The idea is intriguing. Gain a following, write a book. I've often thought that it would be fun to write a book about life through my eyes (particularly if I include some of the thoughts and escapades that don't make it onto this blog).
There's only one problem...who cares? Seriously. No matter how funny, witty, poignant, insert-PR-word-here such a book had the potential to be, it would never really be about life as a twenty-something. It would be about life as this twenty-something. And I'm just not certain what the mass appeal would be.
Unless you turn it into a screenplay for a farcical comedy about single life. Considering the weirdos that get sucked in by my gravitational pull, that might not be such a bad idea...
(Management Update: I'm completely joking. I have no interest in writing a book or screenplay about my tiny little world. I'm not quite that ego-centric)