Thursday, July 26, 2012


John Steinbeck always makes me restless. It doesn’t matter how completely contented I am in my life. It doesn’t matter how settled I think I am, John Steinbeck calls me to wander. Earnest Hemingway always makes me crave cold white wine and oysters, or beer, bread, and sausage. Reading him, I want to wander through late-night streets, in and out of cafes, watching the crowds go by. There is an energy to every author that gives his writing a soul, and that energy affects me.

I’m too easily attracted to change. I’ve been moving furniture these past few weeks, in an attempt to freshen up the look of my house, I have an appointment with a stylist to chop off and darken all my long, blond hair. I still love the “I drink way too much coffee, read a lot, and don’t sleep,” look from high-school, combined with “I’m only not a hippie because I have a job and don’t smoke pot” look (also from high-school), and my defaut - "I just got off the boat" look, but I’ve never been able to limit myself to a style, in life or in fashion. The world is too full of variety, and the writers I love have too much influence on my inclinations. When I finish Steinbeck, I’m moving on to Seamus Heany. I wonder where he will take me.


  1. You seem rather susceptible to books - are you sure Seamus Heaney is the direction you should be going? Are we going to start craving mead halls and ripping arms off, hmm?
    -The Neglected (and Slightly Nervouc) Husband

  2. (That was supposed to read "Nervous", not "Nervouc". Nervouc is not a word)
    -The Neglected (and Mediocre Typer) Husband

  3. I've not encountered Steinbeck in my literary career, and I know I need to change that.

    My "style" is neurotic as well. My sister said something casually the other night about my being a hippie, then amended it to, "Well, the most like a hippie out of the rest of us."

    Then there was the time I put fuchsia highlights in my hair. My mother was flabbergasted, saying, "That's not like you!"

    I was like, "Hi, I'm Christie, have we met?"

    So yeah, one flavor of writing, just as look is, is over-rated!

  4. No dear, no mead halls and damaged arms, but maybe I'll keep my long hair :)

  5. I love Steinbeck, but if you don't like a very gritty sort of American realism, you might not. :)

    I AlWAYS get called a hippie, which is so frustrating. But generally people who know hippies will add on "well, like a clean hippie" and that's ok, but I'd rather hear "well, like a hippie with taste" :)