I'm thinking that having three decades under my belt (not to mention 4 kids, a dog, and a mortgage) ought to mean that I am finally mature.
But, I don't think that's the case. In fact, I fear my maturity might be declining.
I had pretty sophisticated tastes in high school. I read Dickens and Austen and I appreciated good food and nice clothes. In college I still liked those things, but I started reading some YA too and eating whatever I could afford and dressing in whatever was still wearable from my high school years.
Now, at 30, I pretty much wear whatever has an elastic waistband. I eat whatever the kids are eating--mostly peanut butter and jelly, mac and cheese, and chicken nuggets. And I read more kids books than anything else. I laugh at vomit jokes. I don't make my bed. And when my husband gets home I giggle as the kids tell poop stories from the day.
I am not mature, which is probably why I love writing middle grade stories. I'm working on revisions for my current MG novel right now and as I read through the manuscript I realized just how juvenile I've become.
When I first started writing I planned to write a serious novel for adults about one man's influence in life and death. It was going to be deep. Instead I'm writing about eleven-year-old boys who play on kickball teams called "The Ugly Butts" and "The Smelly Armpits." Nice.
I blame it on my kids.
How about you? Have you gained or lost maturity as you've aged?