Aventuras De Viaje

A brief muse at Hemingway’s home in Key West

I wrote this in Ernest Hemingway’s writing studio.

The studio, which was connected by a metal catwalk to his home, was where he wrote the majority of his most famous works, including “A Farwell to Arms”. There is a very exclusive offer, which must be booked in advance, for 2 writers to spend the evening in his studio, sitting beside his typewriter, where he would routinely bang out 700-800 words in the morning, before having lunch, then fish, then evening libations in one of the local bars, so of course I was all in. The cost is $1500, so of course, I was all out. Instead, I stood outside and took the picture above on my mobile, and pounded out the first sentence in his studio before being ushered rather unceremoniously out by the next group of tourists.

I have a special affinity for Hemingway. His book, “The Old Man and the Sea” is one of the first novels I remember being told we had to read in grade school, and its gentle, slow-moving almost rhythmic style, like the ocean itself, was fascinating to me, while my classmates simply said it was boring. I saw something in the old man’s loneliness, his dedication despite adversity, his overcoming death in the mako shark that was somehow delicious and inspiring.

And Hemingway loved cats; his glorious little polydactyl cats, their goofy six toes, unique misfits. His works and his life seemed so glamorous to a little Wilson boy. His travels to Paris and Cuba, his life in Key West, his loves and loves lost.

Hemingway said “Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk.” What a phenomenal sentiment. To me, it means to live a life you dream about. Think about how your friends say things when they’re a little on the sauce, “We should do x.” “Someday I’m gonna go to y.” Well, go. He wrote, “In order to write about life first you must live it.” I was a decent write in high school, and even better one in college. I was in an honor society for writers and I remember talking to one of my professors about becoming a writer (mind you, I had wanted to be a veterinarian since I was in 4th grade, but the accolades I was getting seemed so tantalizing). He said to me, “Blake, I know you could become a great writer, and that’s what you’d be, a writer. Or, you can become a veterinarian and then write.” Fucking brilliant.

I wrote a lot when I was on the Prince Charles sponsored Operation Raleigh in Australia, and then again when I spent 3 months in Europe traveling the rails, plus I used to write a lot of poetry, mainly to girls I fancied.

Because I chose a more rare practice of veterinary medicine, birds and exotics, I started writing after graduating, and I remember getting paid by the word. It taught me verbosity, which is a bad thing, but also that I could find a creative outlet in a science field. When I got my MBA years later, the courses that required writing were the easiest, those requiring numbers only were the more difficult. As my ambitions for the C-suite life grew, my writing dwindled to an occasional year-end inspirational missives for my team. Flowery language gave way to the beat-down of powerpoint slides – Be Succinct. Use as few words as possible. Maybe you’re thinking I should use more of those skills…

I will leave with you with a couple more quotes from my man Hemingway, that are inspiring me now more than when I was younger. “Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived…that distinguish one man from another.” So, “Try to learn to breathe deeply, really taste the food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. Try to be alive.”