I read A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway many years ago when I was a young writer learning his craft. This was before I discovered flash fiction, blogging, even before I had a computer. It was before I went back to Pitt to finish my BA and to get my MFA. This was when I was obsessed with Hemingway and everything he wrote. Everything. Fiction, non-fiction and journalism.
A Moveable Feast is an old man’s memoir of when he was a young man learning the craft of writing before he became a famous writer. The book is full of food, drinking, love-making, heart-break, the weather and the difficult job of learning to write one clean, clear sentence about what really happened and not what you thought happened.
The book is about a young American writer in Paris.
When I read A Moveable Feast, I was a young writer learning his craft in Pittsburgh. I was a war veteran just like Hemingway when he was young in Paris.
Now I’m an old man, too. And Pittsburgh will always be my Paris.
Boys and girls it is muggy and hot outside. The Old Soldier just came back from a shopping expedition to Little Italy. I brought back lunch meat, a big plastic bottle of Coca Cola and some sweet tea. I’m going to assume my favorite position flat on my back on the sofa (retirement is good) with two fat pillows under my weary head and get back to my book on Andy Warhol.
In the meantime explore the site and be sure to come back tomorrow. A new post is featured on the front page every day. For the next several days I’ll be featuring the erotic flash fiction of Anna Bayes.
Keep reading that erotic flash fiction. This is the Old Soldier reporting for the PittsburghFlashFiction, a locally published ezine of commentary, popular culture and sex as art and entertainment.