It all happened in 10th grade..

Kurt Vonnegut is the reason I am a writer.

No, he’s not my favorite author – and yes, I can count endless books that I would reach for before his – but no one writes like him.

I love the idea of Kurt Vonnegut and the person who was Kurt Vonnegut – I love to think that he closed his eyes and wandered around inside what he was writing.

He lived his words while they were hitting the paper. Experienced his characters and themes as they poured out of him. He was as much of the story he was writing as anything he was writing about.

Kurt Vonnegut isn’t my favorite author because I don’t think he would want me to just read his words and base mine off of just that. I think he would want me to move on and get lost around another corner – come back to him on a rainy day – then move on again.

Otherwise, he’s a lot of my favorite things.

In tenth grade, I had a wonderful English teacher who pushed us into different corners of the literary landscape – poetry, sexuality, creativity. She wanted us to read things that weren’t en vogue because she wanted us to know that there was a much bigger world than what was pushed in front of us.

She had us read two short stories that have stuck to the wall of my brain ever since.

The first was “The Veldt” by Ray Bradbury.

The second was what started my relationship with Kurt; Harrison Bergeron.

Now, I hope I’m not breaking any rules by sharing this. I first read it off of a copy of a photocopy that was stapled together and later crumpled in my backpack. This version was hosted on Google and downloaded there.

Either way.
If so…

May the powers that be come and get me if I’ve done something wrong by sharing one of the greatest stories written by one of the greatest writers on our little planet.