In fact, there seems to be far more writers than readers these days.
#2 son is a budding actor. Today he was telling me about his friends, and they all seem to be part of one acting group or another. As a child, he's drawn to the people who have the same interests, of course - and perhaps acting groups are more prolific for kids these days than when I was at school. None of my friends were actors, and I didn't want to be one - I can't recall any of my non-friends who were actors either.
My husband's first car was a yellow Metro, and I knew how easy it would be to find that car in a multi-storey car park... it would sparkle like a star from a bed of really dull-coloured cars. Until every car seemed to be yellow. Ugh! They weren't all yellow the day before, when we didn't have a yellow car. They were many colours.
Many years later we had an import car - this time, when we met other drivers of the same car on the road, we'd give them a wave. We seemed to be waving an awful lot!
So, perhaps there aren't a limitless numbers of writers oozing out of gaps in the walls or cracks in the pavement. Perhaps, by being a writer, I just notice them more.
This post is brought to you from a really boring bus journey this morning