Something I’ve been thinking quite a bit about recently is the idea of a person’s writing style. You see, when I was younger, I was convinced that the absolute, most amazing piece of literature ever written would be written by someone who has never been affected or influenced by another’s work—a completely unique style and voice, unlike anything ever created before. That work would be the absolute epitome of literature. I was severely disappointed, as you might imagine, that I would never be able to create such a work, since I read a different book every three days. That disappointment was short-lived, however, since I quickly realized that I was a little bit of an idiot. How is a person supposed to be able to read, never mind write, if they’d never read before? There is no way to be a writer without being influenced in one way or another.
Archiving for the Future
The discussion we had about archives the other day really got me thinking—specifically, about my cousins. My mom’s brother died of an aneurysm about 20 years ago, a month or two before his second kid was born. Both of his kids are desperate to hear what he was like, constantly asking my mom the most inane questions. One particular moment I remember was about three years ago at thanksgiving when my cousin put a scoop of chocolate ice cream on her apple pie. My mom, not even thinking, mentioned that her brother did the same thing when he was alive. I swear, I didn’t think I’ve ever seen my cousin that excited.