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September 24, 1998
Sunlight beamed into the bedroom. Warm, fuzzy, sunny air filled his hungry lungs. He woke with a long, lazy stretch and grinned to himself. Ah, another beautiful morning. Turning his head, he finds his wife Rose still peacefully asleep. Rising slightly on his elbow, he leans over her and gently bestows a tender kiss upon her forehead. "What a special woman!" He thought as he gazes adoringly at her. With a flourish of agility, he then swings his legs over the edge of the king size bed. Another delicious stretch of his arms and a satisfying arch of his back, he rises out of bed to greet the start of a new day. Moments later, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a notebook in another, he finds himself standing by the courtyard’s floor to ceiling window. Sunrays hit the panes to create lively sparkles on the grand stretch of glass. Squinting his eyes against the sunlight, he stares out appreciatively at the spread of green lawn. Though indoor, he was almost convinced he could smell the fresh, crisp, morning grass. It was a splendid idea to return to their Connecticut home. It was a house filled with blissful memories… the children who had rushed through its rooms, the festivals, the love and work, the honestly earned slumber, the voices and nimble commotion, the perennial of cats and dogs and birds (Styron, 66-67). With a purposeful movement, he eases on to the nearby chaise. The rich, dark aroma of his coffee jolts him from the pleasant memories as he attempts to focus on another task at hand. With graceful fingers, that majestically transcribe his award winning writings on to papers, he lightly feather the notebook cover. A memoir… his memoir… he thought with a proud sigh. Like other pinnacle artists, all modern, Hart Crane, Vincent van Gogh, Virgina Woolf, Arshile Gorky, Cesare Pavase, Romain Gary, Vachel Lindsay, Sylvia Plath, Henry de Montherlant, Mark Rothko, John Berryman, Jack London, Ernest Hemingway, William Inge, Diane Arbus, Tadeusz Borowski, Paul Celan, Anne Sexton, Sergei Esenin, Vladimir Mayakovsky - the list goes on, he too will proudly share his writing secrets, experience, and adventures with others. He was grateful and amazed by his own literary gift. It truly was rewarding to be honored for his striking writing -- his Prix Mondial del Duca, Elmer Homes Bobst, and Pulitzer Prize awards speak for themselves (NYU Literature, Arts and Medicine, Online). His memoir will offer the cheer of shared experience -- to be one of the best. He was clearly aspiring towards that day. It will signify a new glorious chapter in his life and career. William Styron looked up from his memoir to gaze up at the clear blue morning sky. With high spirits, he opens his memoir to the page after yesterday’s and took his pen to paper…
Work Cited
Styron, William. Darkness Visible. New York: Vintage Books, a division of Random Books, 1990.
"NYU Literature, Arts & Medicine Database"
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