You Can’t Write if You Don’t Read
To me, writers were just names on
covers. Until I fell in love with Edgar Allen Poe. This wasn’t my crush on Tommy, who wore his
jeans low and spit-curled his hair in a slow curve over his Clearasil’ed
forehead. This was true passion--for a
writer.
A very dead writer, which made
Poe all the more romantic. No more would
he pen (and I was sure it was a plumed pen, taken in hand by candlelight in the
dark recesses of night) the lush verses that I committed to memory, the
horrific tales that captured my darkest imagination. Alas, alas!
I was nuts for the guy. Even now I get retroactive palpitations. I know.
He looks pretty hokey today, and I don’t think I would voluntarily wade
through “The Fall of the House of Usher” again.
But, as convoluted and archaic as the language now seems to be, that’s
what sucked me in, in the first place: his language.
Language. Compelling plots. Complex characters. Evocation of time and place. Flashes of insight. Poe did that for me, spoiled me, made me seek
those things in everything I’ve read since.
Sometimes I find one or two of those qualities in a book. That’s good; I’ll read on. Three, four or more and I’m in love. In high
school I found all of the above in John Steinbeck, whom I adored until he made
me Travel With Charley. Then he lost
me. The old magic was gone.
My reading eye began to
wander. In college I became promiscuous,
flitting from one to another: D.H. Lawrence, Thomas Wolfe, Hermann Hess,
Dorothy Parker, Tolstoy, Katherine Anne Porter, Dostoevsky, and even–God help
me–Ayn Rand. I loved them all, even
though I’m sure I missed a lot of what they were saying. Without much depth of life experience, it was
difficult for me to relate. Poor, poor
Anna Karenina, I’d sigh—but I really couldn’t tell you why. As much as I loved
to read, that’s how much I loved to write.
It seemed so preposterous, so presumptuous, to even dream of being one
of Them. It never really crossed my mind
to call myself…a writer.
Bio
Marjorie Klein's first novel, Test Pattern (Wm. Morrow Publishers,
2000; HarperCollins/
Perenniel 2001, now an e-book) was a Barnes and Noble "Discover
Great New Writers"
selection. Her creative
nonfiction has appeared in various publications, including 20
years of free-lance work for Tropic, the Miami Herald's former Sunday
magazine. She
received her MFA from Florida International University. Recipient of a Florida
Individual Artist Fellowship, she has taught at the University of
Miami, Florida
International University, Warren Wilson College, University of North
Carolina at
Asheville’s Great Smokies Writers Program, and served as a preliminary
judge for the
National Foundation for Advancement in the Arts. She has completed another novel,
Shifting Gears, and has begun a new one. (www.marjorieklein.com)