Appedix A: Hemingway?

I’ve heard of others experiencing this, but I’ve never had this happen to me before.

Whenever I’m seriously depleted, I try to read voraciously (and sleep) to recharge. So I’d finished a major freelance project Monday night, and began devouring non-fiction and magazines so I could return to some stories I’m working on. Then I bounced through a Joyce Carol Oates essay that mentioned Hemingway’s “Indian Camp” short story, featuring his eponymous character Nick Adams. Had to read it. Happily, I have a first edition of The Nick Adams Stories on my shelves (purchased in San Diego, if memory serves), so I read it. And the next one. And the next one.

They’re different. Terse. Short. Often purposely incomplete. Memorable.

Then I couldn’t write my own stories. His style was overpowering. My writing voice is completely incompatible with his. I realized I could either finish devouring the stories or write with my own voice.

The Nick Adams Stories is back on my bookshelf.