I am in the process of reading one of the classics - a habit I picked up back during my career as an economist. Back then, I would pick one book that was well-regarded, pretty thick, and could be read in a bunch of small, half-hour bites. Past novels have included Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow, Pirsig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Eco's Foucault's Pendulum, and many others. The results have been mixed - a few now rank among my favorites, others were a challenging experience , and some were just kind of... meh. Right now I am in the midst of reading quite a whopper. It's a turn-of-the-20th-century book, well over 700 pages, and while I am a quarter-way into it, I am just not... into it, I guess. I will leave the name out for now, but let's just say I might not be Irish enough for such an endeavor.
Why am I mentioning this (the reading part, not the Irish part)? I am jumping into this subject matter because as a writer, it's always good to explore things and sources that can inspire creativity. Books are the natural touchstone for a writer's creativity, simply because they share the same medium but offer different approaches toward telling a story. Lewis's Liar's Poker, for example, was a book I read while I was exploring economics and trying to understand the behemoth that was the financial markets of the 1990s. The financial geek in me wanted graphs, numbers, and data, but the book actually appealed to the creative in me - showing me the world of high finance through the eyes of someone fresh off the boat and incredibly green. That's when I felt just how powerful a book could be in showing me the real world from another perspective. Yes, it was all about financial instruments and the build-up of amazing levels of greed, but I now understood it.Angier's Natural Obsessions hit me a similar way. Microbiology was a hobby of mine as it were, and I studied it in college with a bunch of electives and side-projects (If not for a scheduling conflict, it would've become a minor degree). However, what really set me going was reading Natural obsessions along with Watson's The Double Helix, and pairing off their approach to scientific research. I also read The Eighth Day of Creation, but the author eludes me. These all showed me parts of the world that fascinated me (and still do), but through a different lens. Watson reminisced about being a 23-year-old grad student tossed into the race to discover the structure of DNA, while Angier looked at the molecular level war against cancer from the perspective of an investigative reporter. All these demonstrations of how to see the world from outside my own framework opened up my mind to a world that was something more than me on my own. I now wanted to expand myself to fill that space.
Lastly, a classic I still appreciate is Bellow's Humboldt's Gift. Nothing will get a writer more inspired than reading about another writer struggling to get along. More to the point, however, Bellow wrote about the areas of Chicago I knew very well - his protagonist lived in my college stomping ground of Ukrainian Village, for crying out loud. However, now I got to see it from the view of someone else's creativity, and indeed I learned a lot about myself. From that point forward I had a new appreciation for my Chicago life, thank to my golfing buddy Sual Bellow (inside joke).
So, to all the writers, poets, essayists, and creatives out there, I offer you this summer challenge: Read a book; one of the classics preferably. Find one that catches your eye or that has eternally drawn your curiosity, and read it during your lunch breaks this summer. And don't be afraid to let it open your mind a bit - you might be surprised.
Just watch out for those Irish authors. Some can be real... wordy.





