Yesterday, May 8th 2014, in 1983 was the day John Fante died from diabetes. He was an amazing writer. There is no other writer who has inspired more than Fante. I just finished re-reading Dreams From Bunker Hill, his last novel that was written as a dictation to Fante's wife, his vision had been taken by diabetes at that point in his life. At the end of the book I always read the little bio. It was May 9th, 2014. I realized his death anniversary was yesterday. Because I didn't know what to do in honor of the anniversary of his passing, I decided to write this.
He was one of the greatest authors that I have read as of now. I learned of his work through reading Charles Bukowski. Bukowski loved Fante. Worshipped at his alter.
I received his novel Ask The Dust as a gift. The book sat in the gift bag for months. I was put off by the year that Fante wrote. Most old or classic things carry a level of boredom. Not with Fante. He had a way with words, a charm if you will. I eat up his words far more than that of Bukowski or any other writer living or dead.
I was saddened knowing I could never be as good as he was. Much like him however, I feel my writing is a little ahead of its time. Maybe I am wrong, maybe Fante was wrong, maybe even Bukowski was wrong. Either way these two men had an impact on my soul in a way no one living or dead in fiction will ever have. And for that, they at least deserve a blog post. It's the least I could do.
If you are a fan of either writer and if you've got the sand. Check out my various stories for free at the link below.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/156220
Twitter: @Greyebooks
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