You live to write, You stop! You Die!

 

    I have been obsessed with Charles Bukowski for weeks now.  I sort of  randomly discovered him, fell in love, ordered his book of poems, 'The Pleasures of the Damned' and now I'm his forever!   (March 14th)

   One day, much to my amazement, I found tucked away in my very messy bookcase, a movie based on Bukowski's life starring Matt Dillon. I'm ashamed to say that a friend had given me the DVD as a gift and I never bothered to watch it. (in my pre-Bukowski days)  "Factotum" is a disturbing and fascinating look into Bukowski's  early years as an alcoholic, unknown writer who was frequently homeless as he went from job to job, from bar to bar, from woman to woman,  from job to job, from bar to......

Bukowski writes about the raw, and sometimes ugly, world in which he lived.  A world that you and I may never experience, a world of the downtrodden, poor, weak, drunk, and doped up, (and what polite society would call) losers.

The saving grace of this man was the PURE TRUTH in which he wrote!  

 This book reads like an autobiography of his life...all in prose.  I was struck by this piece in particular .  Bukowski knew exactly who and what he was.

a clean, well-lighted place  ©

the old fart, he used his literary reputation

to reel them in one at a time,

each younger than the last.

he liked to meet them for luncheon and wine

and he'd talk and listen to them talk.

whatever wife or girlfriend he had at the moment

was made to understand that this sort of thing made him

feel 'young again'.

and when the luncheons become more than luncheons

the young ladies vied to bed down with

this

literary

genius.

in between he continued to write,

and late at night in his favorite bar

he liked to talk about writing and his amorous adventures.

actually, he was just a drunk who liked young ladies,

writing itself and talking about writing.

it wasn't a bad life.

it was certainly more interesting than what most men were doing.

at one time he was probably the most famous writer in the world.

many tried to write like he did

drink like he did

act like he did

but he was the original.

then life began to catch up with him.

he began to age quickly

his large bulk began to wither.

he was growing old before his time.

finally it got to where he couldn't write anymore.

"it just wouldn't come" and the psychiatrists couldn't do anything

for him but only made it worse.

then he took his own cure, early one morning,

alone

just as his father had done

many years before.

a writer who can't write any

more is dead

anyhow.

he knew that.

he knew that what he was killing

was already dead.

and then the critics

and the hangers-on

and the publicists

and his heirs

moved in like vultures.

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'Everything you need to know about life are in these pages by Bukowski.   He knew when it was all over.  He was used up; he had given all that he could, he had nothing more to say.  So he left......the screen door slapping softly shut behind him.'  ~~T.Sugarek

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Start your month off right!! DON'T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with other best-selling AUTHORS!      A NEW SERIES, "The Writer's Corner"

I have had a wonderful response from other authors and will feature an interview once a month . I have invited such luminaries as: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal,  Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Robert McCammon, Sue Grafton, Walter Mosley, Nora Roberts, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers' special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create!  Mark Childress is our April author.  Robert McCammon is scheduled for May. Caroline Leavitt is June's author.  July features Rhys Bowen.  Sue Grafton is August's author and September will feature Tasha Alexander. Slick mystery writer, Andrew Grant will join us this winter.

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