Fiction
The paywall removal project continues with nine pieces from "Fiction".
I wrote a collection of stories a few years ago that was basically meant to tell the story of my life in twelve pieces. It begins with a quote from a poem I wrote:
never trust a writer that says it isn’t about you or one who pens the truth before he’s had a few — the one you want to read knows that fact is fiction and that fiction is always true. — from "never trust a writer that doesn't drink"
On the one hand, the quote above, like the title of the collection itself, Fiction, was chosen to give me a kind of plausible deniability. You know, maybe some of these stories aren’t true, and in one sense, I wanted people to wonder what was true, what was false, and what was in between, for the simple fact that some of the stories are embarrassing. On the other, I think telling the difference between fact and fiction can be a tricky thing as time goes on. I don’t know if anything gets me to stop listening to someone faster than when they use the word “truth”. To show you what I mean, the next time something significant happens in your life, write down every detail about it that you can think of, lock it away in a drawer somewhere for ten years, and then read it to see how much of what you remember is actually “true”. You might be surprised to see what time does to memories.
The twelve stories in Fiction, in chronological order, are:
The Tea Party
My Last Day of School
Fear of Airplanes
Some of the pieces are written in different styles and voices. The Tea Party, which is the only story about my mother, is written in the third person. Some things have to be written that way. Fear of Airplanes, which is presented as a traditional short story about “fictional characters”, is actually the first story I ever wrote, and the strange part is that it was written in one sitting. I’d just gotten home from London after a long flight and for some reason unknown to me, I sat down and just started writing. It was the first time in my life that I’d even attempted to write a story, in fact — before then, I was strictly into poetry. My Last Day of School, which is about the days leading up to my third and final institutionalization at the age of fifteen, is written in the voice that I prefer most these days — just me talking about my life.
If you look at the list of the twelve stories, nine of them have links, because they’ve been posted on this platform. Originally, I planned to also post The Tea Party, Fear of Airplanes, and My Last Day of School as well, but have decided not to. And I’ll tell you why. I’ve hated The Tea Party since the day it was written, but then a friend said they really liked it which I still don’t understand, and since I knew for sure that it was a formative moment in my life, I decided to include it. When it comes to Fear of Airplanes, it’s just too fucking long, no one is going to sit there and read the entire thing, even though I find it very much worth reading. There are some really beautiful lines and ideas in it. Some may not exactly enjoy it because they aren’t used to people being as honest as the main character in the story is, but that might be exactly why they should read it. And finally, in My Last Day of School, there’s a story about a safety pin, my ear, and a teacher that pissed me off. While I told you the truth about the first time I got my ear pierced, what I left out was that there was a brief time later where it was actually pierced twice.
Most people have probably not seen any of the twelve stories from Fiction, and if they have, they may not be aware that they are intended to be read in chronological order as a coherent whole. But Keye, how are we supposed to read Fiction when you refuse to post the other three stories from it? Well, suppose I just tell you that all you’re missing is that I was beaten as a child and learned how to fight back, had self-destructive tendencies as a teenager, and did not lack confidence with the ladies when I was in my twenties. That information, along with the other nine stories, really should be enough to give you the general picture. But if for some reason it’s not, you can get the complete work here. It’s pretty funny that the cheapest piece of literature at The Keye Store just happens to be the story of my life.