I was quite young, maybe third grade, when I discovered Poe on the family bookshelf in a bound compendium of his work. While my love for his stories took a bit of time to grow (they were a bit a slow burn for me), I was immediately taken with his poetry.
Still today, the casual rhyme, the edge of madness, the bitter tinge to words of anguish make me shudder with appreciation. I think his work speaks to my own darkness as I think it did from a young age. I still find inspiration in his words, and after all these years, my fondness has not waned.
I think as a writer it’s important to revisit the works that inspired your love of words from a young age. It can rekindle your spirit and remind you what you wanted to accomplish.
It’s the same for readers. Maybe it’s time to visit an old friend gathering dust on the shelf.