Kurt Vonnegut died last night. Same as Xhaxhi Enver 22 years ago. Both men helped shape my writting.
Xhaxhi Enver’s death prompted me to write a very sad poem about it, in which everything cried. I could not cry at the obligatory mourning class that we had that day. But one of the girls threatened to throw herself out of the window. Anyway, 11th of April marks the day of my first poem, and the realisation that I could not write good poems. It has not stopped me from trying though.
Kurt Vonnegut pushed me in a completely different direction and made me realise that yes, there were serious writers who used sci-fi elements and that would not burn in pop-writing hell for doing the same. Slaughterhouse five helped me break some brain walls as well.