In snowy times like these in Northeast Ohio, there's little to think about other than the influence writers have on other writers. It's not like Thanksgiving is around the corner. Nobody has immense stacks of papers to grade. Oh no. Not here.
Seriously, though, I was just running downstairs (avoiding work) to get a tea (avoiding work), and thought about how we're always searching for the influence of poets/writers on other poets/writers. As if it's any of our business. But we seem to have an enduring desire to identify and attribute. And of course there's that whole anxiety of influence to consider.
There are poets I think I should have been influenced by, but who failed to move me. There are a lot of fiction writers on my influence list. Don't tell this guy.
Are you under the (literary) influence at present? Is anyone inspiring you, or floating your boat? Curling your toes? Rocking your world? Serving as resident bee in your bonnet? Have you ever outgrown an influence, like a pair of paisley corduroy bellbottoms? Have you ever needed an intervention for being overly influenced?