“And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see, at break of day, The solitary child.”
Lucy Gray, or Solitude
By: Gabriela Yareliz
I was reading through my Winter anthology, edited by Melissa Harrison. This morning, my eyes fell on a passage (quoted above). As I was reading, I knew the words felt so familiar.
The passage/excerpt didn’t end for a couple of pages and the author is always on the last page, so I hadn’t seen who penned it. I continued to read, and there was an incredible feeling attached to what I was reading. Nostalgia, perhaps. When I reached the page where the author’s name was, I saw it– William Wordsworth, 1799. I was obsessed with him and his writing in high school (along with John Keats). I would check out books with all of their works compiled, from the library. When I saw the name, I smiled.
I still find it amazing how you can recognize someone depending on how they string words together. A person can create a sort of signature; their very own gait across the page.
Whose writing have you spotted and felt that rush of nostalgia for?
GABRIELA YARELIZ 