“Exploring life through fiction, together.”

I think one reason I love writing is that I find talking so hard. Sure, I can choke the words out, but I’ve always struggled to get my meaning across.

I once tried to ask a girl out, but got so fumbled she had no idea what I was on about. None. So I kept talking. Through my red cheeks and the clammy hands. Hoping that if I sprayed enough words, I would dig myself out of the hole.

Fiction Bite - Not. A. Chance.

Maybe she hates me

Nah, it’s worse than that.

What can be worse than that?

You repulsed her.

Come on, it can’t be that bad.

Didn’t you see her face when you asked?

I was too busy looking at my shoes.

Dog shit gets a better reaction.

Why did you make me talk to her then?

I thought it’d be funny.

Was it?

Not really. It was like stepping on a puppy’s head and watching the goo come out.

Quote of the Week

“It is a fault to wish to be understood before we have made ourselves clear to ourselves.” — Simone Weil

Book of the month

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

The writing is electric; the subject pressing. It shook me out of my safe world, and reminded me how privileged I am. And, he just writes so well. It’s very short, very moving, and beautifully crafted.

Final Words

With writing I can try over and over. I get to tweak and cut until there is only meaning. None of the padding that fills my speech.

Here I feel more me than when I speak.

But does that make it more real? Or am I fooling myself into a distorted view? Maybe clammy hands and too many words are me. Maybe this concise, thoughtful voice I (try to) use is just unhelpful posturing.

Who are you in person? On social media? At 4am? Which of them would you like to be more often? Which best reflects the real you? Would you be willing to hit reply? It’d make my day to hear from you.

With Love,

Josiah

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