2015: Fact and Fiction
I wrote a lot this year — probably more in 2015 than any year prior. In the first half of the year, I wrote because I needed to, and a lot of things depended on it. My dad went missing, and as it grew more and more plausible that he may not have been missing on his own accord, I had to get to the bottom of what was happening.
I did as much as I could from 1,100 miles away. I spent a lot of time on the phone, I wrote a lot of texts, to his friends, friends of friends, ex-girlfriends, acquaintances. Chasing leads, running into dead ends, listening to different theories, some outlandish and conflicting and strange. I wrote. I filled pages of a notebook with details and timelines. They’re surreal to look back through now and when I come across particular lines, I can vividly recall the conversations that prompted them.
“extremely harmful people (he repeated this several times)”
“do not give too much info to X. Just general stuff”
“he repeated the same line she did, verbatim. Did they corroborate?”
“keeps asking specific questions about finances. really suspicious”
“fourth person to describe X as cold, calculating, manipulative. Changed mind on this. Think we might be dealing with a really bad person.”
My nights were filled with more conversations, more notes. My thoughts were plagued with worst case scenarios. My sleep (when I was able to sleep) was riddled with nightmares.
And then a formal police investigation into his disappearance was launched. Then, he was found and he was arrested and he was put in jail. Then I flew back to Illinois for his hearing. So, he was missing, and then he was found, and that was that. I guess the truth is I wrote to keep my mind from coming apart. And it came apart a lot anyway. I wrote to save my life. That’s the truth. And that’s probably how I’ll remember 2015 some years down the line.
But 2015 wasn’t all darkness, not at all. My dad’s alive, and he’s safe. I got to see and do some truly amazing and beautiful things. I visited Big Sur for the first time, and decided it’s one of the greatest places on earth. I took a solo camping trip through Wyoming and Idaho and wrote about it. That trip was one of the best things I’ve ever done and helped me recalibrate my mind and move past the events that transpired earlier in the year.
I was on a podcast for the first time. I know that’s not a big deal at all but I was really nervous to do this because a) I don’t really enjoy talking about myself and b) I knew next to nothing about podcasts. But I ended up having a really fun time! I talked about a viral tweet I did last year (which I guess I’ll be talking about forever) but also writing and movies and social media and jokes.
And I wrote some short fiction this year I’m really (mostly) proud of. Do you want to hear about that? Well here goes anyway.
For years I’ve had this premise in my head: 2 young boys find an old, small church in the woods that wasn’t there before. I’ve just never known quite what to do with it. So I decided to take a crack at it and ended up with Church of Nowhere. I tried a new process with this one where I wrote something that was quite a bit longer, and then cut everything I didn’t like or I didn’t think was completely necessary. This was in part inspired by a presentation I saw Shane Carruth give about his film Upstream Color (which I loved a lot.) He did a similar process for both that film and Primer, just cutting cutting cutting everywhere. I don’t know if I was successful with what I wrote here, but the soul of it is very much a reflection of who I am, and I’m pleased with how it turned out.
The Last Library in the City is about a woman dealing with a terrible library branch. I don’t really know what else to say about it, except this probably has the most comedic elements of any straight fiction I’ve ever written before. “There was the ongoing ‘wet book’ problem. This one was inexplicable.” is a line that just tickles me a lot.
For the second year in a row, I did an experiment where I sat down and wrote a scary short story every night of the week leading up to Halloween. This is very much in the spirit of something I enjoyed growing up, sitting around a campfire with friends and going around trying to improvise a scary story for the group. I will tell you that both years I’ve done this, it’s been a super nerve-wracking process, because I have literally no idea what I’m going to write going into it, and there’s always the chance I just won’t come up with anything at all. It’s also pretty taxing to write a story in 2 hours (or so) and then publish it the same night. But both years I’ve been mostly happy with how they’ve turned out. Here are the 5 I wrote this year, and a little about them:
A woman driving on a highway at night sees a pair of headlights in the distance that never appear closer, no matter how far and how fast she drives. This premise occurred to me when I was on a commuter rail the night before I wrote it, watching cars along the adjacent highway. Of the 5, I’m probably most proud of this one because it’s a simple premise with an ending that’s both satisfying and not at all satisfying.
A man working 3rd shift at a gas station is confronted by a person with a mask and a baseball bat. For this one, I just wanted a chance encounter between 2 strangers, an escalating conversation, and then a brutal act of violence. Fun stuff! I drew inspiration for this from an experience I had one summer working the late shift at a gas station in Bartonville, Illinois. One night while I was mopping, 2 rough looking men walked in, broke formation, and approached me from either side while I was trapped in an aisle. I tensed my body and braced for impact. Then they asked for an obscure car part that we didn’t have, and then they left. To this day I’m fairly certain it was a dry run for a robbery, and some guy in another county or another state drew the short straw on that one. Anyway, a really graphic thing happens in this story that a few friends told me they hated a lot. Just a heads up.
One morning, a man finds 2 identical Instagrams posted by 2 friends who couldn’t possibly know each other. This is probably the least straightforward of the 5, and I’m not sure how satisfying the resolution is. But I think it’s probably the creepiest.
A woman trying on clothes in a department store fitting room is mysteriously urged by an employee to stay put. This was my most read piece of 2015, because Medium did a thing where they recommended it and so it appeared in a lot of people’s feeds (I’m not totally sure how that all works.) Anyway SPOILER ALERT: I like this one because it ends so far from where it begins — the literal end of the world. And I like that the reader has no clue that’s what’s happening, because Miriam has no clue either, and so you get to experience that together. There’s something darkly comedic about this that really appeals to me. “Do you mind staying in the dressing room for a few minutes? The world is ending out here.” I don’t know, I just like that a lot.
A man comes home one night to find someone waiting for him. This description is purposely vague just in case you’re still reading this (why are you still reading this?) and want to read the piece before I SPOIL IT. Anyway, I was attracted to the idea of returning to the first story “Headlights” from a different angle, in a way that (hopefully) didn’t detract from the mystery of the first piece, and provided a nice twist for everyone who had been following this series beginning to end. There’s an object from the first 4 stories mentioned in “The End After the End” and then Renata connecting it all, but I’ll leave it up to the reader why they think that is. Also, the original ending for this was Hank finding the boy in the bush again and the implication that he’s stuck in his own loop as well (something that’s implied multiple times in the story), but it just really bummed me out so I changed it at the last second before publishing. I felt there should be a deviation. That was also something I was trying to tell myself, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.
I also wrote a poem, the first I’ve written in years, one day when I was feeling sad and anxious.
And I wrote this short piece about a town beneath the water. I might like it the most of all.
I got my ass kicked pretty bad this year. But so did lots of others, and much worse. My hope for myself, and for you, is that 2016 brings contentment, peace, and happiness. I’m very grateful for all the kind and talented people I met this year. I’ll see you soon.
