Stories tagged memoir

Twenty-three-year-olds Shouldn't Be Writing Memoirs (Ch 3)

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"I had been devoutly nihilistic up until that moment, but from then onward..."

Twenty-three-year-olds Shouldn't Be Writing Memoirs (Ch 4)

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I began to expect the unexpected when it came to life in art school, considering how many preconceived notions of mine had fallen short.

Twenty-three-year-olds Shouldn't Be Writing Memoirs (Ch 5)

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"I felt the sky open that day, and time operated by a different universal logic than normal. I made contact with godlike entities and vomited up tarantulas and scorpions..."

Twenty-three-year-olds Shouldn't Be Writing Memoirs (Ch 6)

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"When I turned twenty-one, I didn't know how to act..." (Final Chapter)

Cluck Cluck

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So where was I? On the curb, the stingy, gritty curb of existence, hard on the ass, as usual on the rim of it all, the ledge of success, well to tell the truth far from the ledge but about to fall off, floating on the circumference of meaning, riding a c

Attraction In the Night

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Everybody was out on the deck and you could feel the deck swaying a little with the weight of all the people. There was loud music inside but it was too hot and nobody was dancing and they were all out on the deck. Lisa was out there and either she would not…

The Need To Tell Somebody

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He just had to tell somebody. Anybody. So he called up his publisher, L., who agreed to meet him at Oliveira’s for a drink. It only took about ten minutes to walk there from his big duplex in the Elmwood, where he was still living with his wife among


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We see o­nly the results which a man's choices make out of his raw material . . . when his body dies all that will fall off him, and the real central man, the thing that chose, that made the best or the worst out of this material, will stand naked. All sorts of things…

Old Friends Getting Older

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I just amuse myself by buying old guns and refurbishing them in my basement as I listen to old Bohemian polkas on cassettes.

that picture of you

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Oh my God! The question of whether or not we each have a double has been answered. Yours is living in Louisville, KY. It was you...young you. I already knew it, but seeing your picture just slammed it home. Again. I knew I shouldn't have told you

the trenchant lad & the mechanical men

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A man walks on the moon my mother knew at Purdue.

Missing Piece

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I tell myself to go back to my room, forget about the Bugs Bunny puzzle. I disobey myself

The Failed Thesis

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In grade school, I was the dumb kid in class.

New York Press, 8 Million Stories: What I learned from Pamela Anderson

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I’ve always found Pamela Anderson a creature of strange fascination. No, it’s not because I am a lesbian or because I have a large plastic boob fetish, much as my childhood Barbie collection might dictate otherwise. It’s not even because she was married t

Sorting through two forms of stupid

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Does modeling come easily to me? Am I made for the camera? Not exactly. When I pose for a shot, I feel, well, like a poser, really.