Meaning

An author was sitting at a table, pen in hand.

He was not writing creatively this time. He had never done a book signing before, but the local shop had invited him and he couldn't turn them down.

A college kid came up to him and said, "None of my friends like your books. They say they are devoid of any meaning."

The author paused, his hand hovering harmlessly above the paperback.

"Perhaps they are. Have your friends written anything?"

"Not really. They just criticize."

"Maybe they should go to the library, pick from a long list of all those everlasting truths everybody agrees on, and write a little something about it."