My Wifesty Bonnie asked me an interesting question recently. We were having some difficulty coming up with blog post ideas and her mind got to doing what it does best. Asking questions. One of those questions she asked me was what was the book I read which prompted my desire to write?
This was a good question. Why? Because it made me think. It should be an easy question to ask. Like one of those light bulb moments. I read a book so great I felt I could do the same. Only it didn’t happen that way for me.
I am a prolific reader. At one point in my life I would have been reading multiple books from all types and genres. I read technical manuals like candy. I needed to for my work. I can still quote them to you even though it has been decades since I needed to. I still look for the technical manuals or any type of written material to help me in my day job. I consume technical manuals.
I think consume is a good word for my reading style. I consume books . I have read in every genre. If I find an author I like, I read anything they have written. I look for their early works to see where they started compared to where they are now.
I love the classics . I mean it. How many people bother with the classics anymore? The Count of Monte Cristo, The Scarlet Letter, Huckleberry Finn, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I once had access to one of those book collections so many people bought but never made use of. You know the ones I mean. The ones filled with classic books inside leather book bindings and gold letters for the title. Each one a reproduction of the original works. Read the original Frankenstein by Mary Shelly if you get a chance. Compare it to the later version she rewrote to take out the parts which scared people. Think about that for a minute. She self-edited her original work because it scared people.
I fell in love with the pulp books as well. Such fun reads. The murder mysteries , the science fiction books and the westerns . When I look back, I find no specific author made me want to write. I found I wanted to write because I tell stories. Good stories I felt could be translated from a dinner party discussion to pages in a book. My inspiration to write came from these moments. The moments when I realized I did tell a good story. Why not write some of them down?
Of course, I didn’t. No. My path to writing came from my Wifesty. I found myself unemployed in L.A. with little prospects or hope. California and I have never had a great relationship. I can find work in most places fairly easily, and quickly. In California, I don’t get offers until I leave the state. Then they call me. I mean it, it takes me months to find work in a state where I should be able to find work in days.
Anyways, I am on a tangent. As I was moping, Bonnie told me to put up or shut up. If I wanted to write, then this was the time. She saved my mind.
My inspiration to write didn’t come from any book or particular author. It came from my wife. I am a lucky man. The luckiest. I have the best wife.
I’m Ross, Editor of The Pyrateheart Press and I’m out.