My brother and I were both good at science, and we were both good at English literature. Either one of us could have gone either way.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I have a brother younger than me. My mother was a librarian, so from her, I got the taste to read.
It was very lucky for me as a writer that I studied the physical sciences rather than English. I wrote for my own amusement. There was no kindly English professor to tell me for my own good how awful my writing really was. And there was no professor with the power to order me what to read, either.
Both my parents instilled an interest in science and mathematics.
I had then and still retain an interest in science for its own sake and as a metaphor for our current lives.
My brother told me I was going to be a poet. I had a good brother. He did a lot of good brotherly work.
So I decided on science when I was in college.
I was particularly good at math and science.
For the last half of my life I have had the doubtful benefit of a brother whose literary reputation is much greater than my own.
Brian and I were both science students. You know science sort of math and physics side, you know.
I'd studied English literature at university, but I was also far more enamored with Virginia Woolf, Katherine Mansfield, and James Joyce. That was my passion.
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