I write because I want to win a Pulitzer prize. I write because I want to help kids hate their parents. I write because I bought all of these pens and notebooks and don't want them to go to waste. I write because I suck at sports and math. I write because I suck at talking. I write because I have all of these awesome ideas that nobody else has ever had but they're not of much use to me so I want to share them with other people who might find a purpose for them. I write to get laid. I write because it's cheaper than therapy. I write because I'm afraid that if I don't occasionally clear out my imagination, it will start seeping out of my ears. I write because my first grade teacher told me that I was good at it.
Most of my favourite authors were drug addicts. Jack Kerouac is probably the author with the most influence on me and whose work I've most read, my favourites being The Dharma Bums and Tristessa. I'm a big fan of Fyodor Dostoevsky, as well. I'm also a big fan of Mindy Klasky, both because I really enjoy her Glasswrights' Saga and because she responded to my email. (I don't think she's a drug addict, though, so please excuse her inclusion on this list.) And anyone who doesn't love Lewis Carroll must have had a very sad childhood (of which, perhaps, they can write some lovely Dickensian tales.)
Individual books that I adore include To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee), When I Was Five I Killed Myself (Howard Buten), Just Another Empire (Mark Driver), Where The Sidewalk Ends (Shel Silverstein), The Old Man and The Sea (some old guy, I forget his name), House of Leaves (Mark Z. Danielewski) and The Boxcar Children (Gertrude Chandler Warner)
That's hilarious. Welcome aboard.
That's hilarious. Welcome aboard.