It is fair to say that I might not have become very interested in writing if it was not for Charles Bukowski. Like the equally important, and deceptive, Ernest Hemingway, Charles always made me feel that good writing was easy. And that feeling, even though it is misplaced, is so important when starting out. Even if you cannot even come close to the emotional rooms and places where Charles Bukowski, with his brutal imagery and gritty prose, seem to stumble around without ever realizing its own value and impact. Could be because he was drunk all the time. Perhaps he should have had more watermelon in his days.