Member-only story
Chuck Palahniuk’s Treatise on Writing Revealed Flaws in How I Hold Friends.
A Sad Story for the Emo Writing Crowd.
I’m somewhere close to a prolific reader.
Heading up a storytelling nonprofit for over a decade and coaching thousands of people, aren’t the sorts of things you do, if you don’t love to read.
In fact, Story Luck’s most read article was a detailed look at the 50ish books I read during the pandemic. My focus tends to be on nonfiction, books on the craft of narrative performance, and writing in general. But when I was in college, I was given a book of fiction to read by Jordie. Who’d, not briefly, be my best friend.
White, punkish and male, I’d failed upward. Lucked into a writing program in a small performing arts school just outside of Columbus Ohio.
I didn’t have a car, biked all over campus.
Jordie was an inch or two taller than me, but you wouldn’t know because of the unassuming way he walked, eyes on his feet. He wore black button downs and baggy jeans that made him look skeletal when the wind whipped. Thick rimmed glasses because boys like him: always. I mean, you could smell it on him from a block away — he was a library kid.
