"'I should like a thoroughly bad climate,' he answered. 'I believe one would write better if the climate were bad.'" - p. 229
It's true, I think. I find that terribly worrisome, considering my career objectives. Let's look at some examples.
J.K. Rowling is the richest woman in the world. She's got more money than the Queen of England. Everyone loves her, with the exception of people who think that Harry Potter is either annoying or evil.
Emily Dickinson, about whom I wrote my Famous American report in third grade (and also one in seventh), is, for all her confusing capitalization, one of the most-read poets of all time.
Charles Dickens... well, we've all read some Dickens at some point in our lives, haven't we?
You know what they all have in common? They're all varying degrees of miserable.
J.K. Rowling, after moving back to England from Portugal with her daughter as a single mother, wrote the beginning chapters of Harry Potter on napkins in pubs while her baby daughter napped.
Emily Dickinson was a hermit. She was also depressed.
Charles Dickens described himself as a "very small and not-over-particularly-taken-care-of boy."
For the sake of avoiding unnecessary mental crises, I am going to stop there.
I have this autographed picture on my desk in my room. Sometimes people think it's a new frame that still has the random picture in it.
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