George Saunders

That's very specific.

I'm 67.

Just turned 67.

Hmm.

Probably less, I think.

I think, I mean, not in a way, not in a negative sense, but the places where I expect surprise, that's narrowed.

So I expect surprise when I'm writing.

And that comes more, more surprises there.

As a person, I would say, well, actually, probably, yeah, I think less.

I think, you know, things are a little more, more, more patterned, I think.

Yeah, how do you feel about it?

I think at this point, one of the things that gets a little scary is that the blind spots get bigger.

You know, there are things when you're younger, I think you, the world changes.

hits you in ways that makes you aware of the blind spots.

And I think as you get older, and especially as you get, like, you know, I have a teaching life, and most of the areas of my life allow me to think I'm all right, you know?

And so then your blind spots sit there very happily, and they just expand, you know?

So that can be scary.

But I think that, for me, writing is the one way where a lot of that gets overturned.

But then also, I guess, just in terms of like repetition, the number of things that you've done and seen and thought, just the sheer volume over the years, it starts to put you into a better relation with truth.

So, for example, I remember this is when I turned 40, but I was walking to teach at Syracuse and I was having a certain thought stream, a certain kind of pre-teaching nervous, you know, mind fart, basically.