You are what you read…
From Lauren Leto, an amusing exercise in “Stereotyping People by Their Favorite Author.” Some excepts:
J.D. Salinger
Kids who don’t fit in (duh).
Stephenie Meyer
People who type like this: OMG. Mah fAvvv <3 <3.
J.K. Rowling
Smart geeks.
Haruki Murakami
People who like good music.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
People who can start a fire.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
People who used to sleep so heavy that they would pee their pants.
Charles Dickens
Ninth graders who think they’re going to be authors someday but end up in marketing.
John Grisham
Doctors who went to medical schools in the Dominican Republic.
Dan Brown
People who used to get lost in supermarkets when they were kids.
Readers will find many more meaningful match-ups here.
[TotH to @temiri]
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As we simmer at the shelves, we might send muckraking birthday greetings to Upton Beall Sinclair Jr.; he was born on this date in 1878. Sinclair paid his way through City College and Columbia writing dime novels, then turned to journalism. Moved by what he saw (and heard and smelled) in covering the Chicago stockyards, he wrote his first novel, The Jungle. Unable to find a publisher willing to release an expose of conditions in the U.S. meatpacking industry, he published it himself– and created a public uproar sufficient to drive, within months, the Pure Food and Drug Act and the Meat Inspection Act. Sinclair tried his hand as a politician, but stayed true to his typewriter: before he died in 1968, he had written over 100 books of fiction and non-fiction– including the novel Oil, which was the basis of Paul Thomas Anderson’s film There Will Be Blood.
Writing of Sinclair in 1957, Time pronounced him, “a man with every gift except humor and silence.”
