What Your Favorite Writer Says About You

Ernest Hemingway: You’re a dude.

David Foster Wallace: You’re a dude who’s white.

Ayn Rand: You’re, like, super independent and probably have no friends.

Jack Kerouac: You’re thinking about getting a motorcycle license.

Langston Hughes: You’re one of earth’s six living poets.

Sylvia Plath: You’ve been in therapy for fifteen years.

William Shakespeare: You’re pursuing a MFA in theatre and likely unemployed.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky: You think it’s healthy to have a fetish for dark and complex emotions.

Gertrude Stein: You’re a socialite with incomparable taste and prefer the company of artists with emotional baggage.

J.D. Salinger: You’re still going through puberty.

Samuel Beckett: You sometimes can go on, and sometimes cannot go on without GrubHub.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: You’re the world’s biggest fan of Benedict Cumberbatch.

Maya Angelou: You’re woke AF.

Gustave Flaubert: You own all eight seasons of The Real Desperate Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Jorge Luis Borges: You’re prone to dream-like hallucinations about labyrinths constructed out of baba ganoush.

Flannery O’Connor: Your spirit animal is a mix between a Gothic gargoyle and Avril Lavigne.

Leo Tolstoy: You’re happy spending ten years just to read a single book.

Mark Twain: You think KFC did a great job of bringing Mark Twain back to life as Colonel Sanders.

George Eliot: You troll vulnerable men on World of Warcraft by pretending that you’re a woman named OrcPrincess63.

F. Scott Fitzgerald: You love throwing fancy parties for unhappily married women.

Kurt Vonnegut: You think everything is a joke.

Emily Dickinson: You’re one of earth’s other six living poets.

Franz Kafka: You were that one weird kid in elementary school who loved playing with insects.

Oscar Wilde: You’re an aspiring comedian with mediocre one-liners.

Harper Lee: You’re respected by everyone except racists.

Vladimir Nabokov: You love children but not, like, in a creepy way.

Voltaire: You have razor-sharp wit and a croissant stuck up your ass.

Mary Shelley: You’re always that one person who corrects people with, “Guys, Frankenstein was the doctor.”

J.R.R. Tolkien: Your favorite languages are the two Elvish dialects, Quenya and Sindarin. You’ve never been laid.

Jane Austen: You believe in love but, like, in an ironic way.

John Milton: You’re 400-years-old.

Hunter S. Thompson: You’re a dude who occasionally does drugs.

Emily Brontë: You have a sister named Charlotte and everyone always get you two mixed up.

Charlotte Brontë: You’re jealous of your more talented sister.

Marcel Proust: You’re all about style over substance and have an eclair stuck up your ass.

Rumi: You just signed up for your first Ayuhuasca ceremony.

Charles Dickens: You don’t mind writing thirty pages just to describe a bowl of baba ganoush.

Virginia Woolf: Your most endorsed skill on LinkedIn is “Event Planning.”

Dante Alighieri: You’re 700-years-old.

James Joyce: You’re impossible to understand.

Bob Dylan: Really?