I found a cute little NYTimes op-ed piece, which argues that
these days, all
writing is screenwriting. Embedded in the middle of the article
is this paragraph:

At the moment, a tribe of 15,000 novel-readers on the Upper West Side
keep fiction alive in America. Other than that, fiction writers are
as archaic as fishmongers. If you wish to hide some human truth where
no one will find it, place it in the middle of your first novel.

New Yawkers really are a different breed aren’t they?
Sure, if I was a member of The Tribe of 15000,
I might believe that that it was only my efforts that kept the
sputtering flame of fiction alive. But I would never express
such thoughts to anyone other than my fellow tribesmen.
Certainly not in the NY Times, where benighted Californians, Britons,
or God help us, South Dakotans might stumble across it.

I’m not sure if this is an example of “the (New York) fish not noticing the water
in which he swims,” or something more. See, I’ve always heard
people argue that one should read fiction to expand one’s horizons and explore
different modes of thinking. But our essayist now unwittingly provides us with
the counterargument: that perhaps reading can have
the opposite effect. Maybe this whole readin’ and writin’ business isn’t all
it’s cracked up to be.