Another Entry Starting With a Question?
After skimming through my old entries last night (which is the surest sign of boredom this side of television), I gave a bit of thought on what writers I think I’m influenced by. Now, granted, I’m not claiming to be a “writer” other than in the sense that everyone who has a diary on here is inherently a writer, who has some sort of style, as amateurish as that style may be.
But, anyway, I imposed the question on Spider this morning, asking what people inspire his writing style. He responded “Ernest Hemingway, Bob Dylan, and You." Which is only funny because it’s entirely true.
And I live with this guy . . .
Hawthorne blows a big one. Way too obvious in his works. He, like, beats you over the head with whatever the meaning/symbolism/metaphor/whathaveyou in his work is. Down with Hawthorne! Plus, he wrote the Scarlet Letter, which is ground for being tarred and feathered in my book. Oh, and first note. (WOO!)
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And Erin’s note makes no sense now . . .
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Really, I think what I read has a large influence on my wirting style. And how I feel at the time. You know, sometimes I wonder if I even have a style. It is consistently changing.
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writing* what about you?
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I think I’d have to have something proper to actually write before I started consciously imitating people who could…
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I’d like to think nothing because then I’d be too impressionable. But that’s just silly.
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I thought about this again, and you know, I donÂ’t think itÂ’s just people I read who inspire my writing. Really, likely not it at all, itÂ’s people that I admire. And its not even just people, but all those silly things that move me. Like an old couple sitting on a park bench holding hands. And sunrises. And, like that friend of yours, you.
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