That book has been a huge influence on me my entire life-- not just my writing, either-- like EVERYTHING.
I always wanted to do the "drive coast to coast in one shot" thing but could never find anyone who wanted to try it. Very discouraging! Last summer, however, I made a trip from here (Denver) to Knoxville TN (where me and my sisters were all born) on my motorcycle, by myself. I purposely did not plan my route, and made many side trips.
Frankly, sometimes I wonder how I managed to live through the experience. The whole thing was totally larger-than-life and monumental, though. I nearly wrecked into some deer who were crossing a highway exit ramp in Topeka at 3 in the morning, found a haunted house in rural Missouri, saw scenes of incredible beauty and mystery nearly everywhere I looked, got chased by some guys outside a cemetery, rested for a few hours in a vast used car lot, stayed in one of the skeeziest motels ever in Wichita (I called my friend who's into Bukowski and told him that Chuck would have loved this place), saw the full moon rise on solstice eve over the Mississippi River, nearly got eaten by ants in St. Louis, slept in a cornfield in Kentucky, talked to a variety of interesting people, saw the biggest hairest gray spider I've ever seen in my life under some blackberry brambles in Tennessee, exchanged grins and a wave with a cute Amish teen who was driving a wagon on a back highway, and... well, just did a bunch of crazy stuff. Did a whole bunch of stuff for the first, but likely not the last, time in my life.
Here's a picture of a place where I pulled off the road to rest just at sunrise in southern Missouri--
http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b103/RScribes/Pictures%202005/sunriseMissouriJune2005.jpg
And let you think that I'm trying to make this thread be about me instead of Jack-- if it wasn't for Jack I would definitely be a much different person today, whether better or worse I have no way of knowing, but: It's all about you, Jean baby! You the man.
I was already a writer and in love with writing when I first read "On The Road" (in sixth grade, attending Catholic school in Wichita Kansas). But the way this guy wrote set my brain on fire. I wanted to write like him in that pumping flow of words like a heartbeat and a whoosh of blood, and BE him. (I started playing chess so I could be like Jack!)
So now that I've finally roaded like Jack, I'm going to try a more ambitious project. I had been going to do this this past September with a friend of mine but-- guess what?-- she wussed out. "Oh I just can't see the point in driving that far!" Once again, then, it'll just be me, in November, going east and maybe (if the weather cooperates) into Canada. (Did you hear me, Jean!? Canada, baby!!)
I always wanted to do the "drive coast to coast in one shot" thing but could never find anyone who wanted to try it. Very discouraging! Last summer, however, I made a trip from here (Denver) to Knoxville TN (where me and my sisters were all born) on my motorcycle, by myself. I purposely did not plan my route, and made many side trips.
Frankly, sometimes I wonder how I managed to live through the experience. The whole thing was totally larger-than-life and monumental, though. I nearly wrecked into some deer who were crossing a highway exit ramp in Topeka at 3 in the morning, found a haunted house in rural Missouri, saw scenes of incredible beauty and mystery nearly everywhere I looked, got chased by some guys outside a cemetery, rested for a few hours in a vast used car lot, stayed in one of the skeeziest motels ever in Wichita (I called my friend who's into Bukowski and told him that Chuck would have loved this place), saw the full moon rise on solstice eve over the Mississippi River, nearly got eaten by ants in St. Louis, slept in a cornfield in Kentucky, talked to a variety of interesting people, saw the biggest hairest gray spider I've ever seen in my life under some blackberry brambles in Tennessee, exchanged grins and a wave with a cute Amish teen who was driving a wagon on a back highway, and... well, just did a bunch of crazy stuff. Did a whole bunch of stuff for the first, but likely not the last, time in my life.
Here's a picture of a place where I pulled off the road to rest just at sunrise in southern Missouri--
http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b103/RScribes/Pictures%202005/sunriseMissouriJune2005.jpg
And let you think that I'm trying to make this thread be about me instead of Jack-- if it wasn't for Jack I would definitely be a much different person today, whether better or worse I have no way of knowing, but: It's all about you, Jean baby! You the man.
I was already a writer and in love with writing when I first read "On The Road" (in sixth grade, attending Catholic school in Wichita Kansas). But the way this guy wrote set my brain on fire. I wanted to write like him in that pumping flow of words like a heartbeat and a whoosh of blood, and BE him. (I started playing chess so I could be like Jack!)
So now that I've finally roaded like Jack, I'm going to try a more ambitious project. I had been going to do this this past September with a friend of mine but-- guess what?-- she wussed out. "Oh I just can't see the point in driving that far!" Once again, then, it'll just be me, in November, going east and maybe (if the weather cooperates) into Canada. (Did you hear me, Jean!? Canada, baby!!)