It was illegal. I’d surprised you with the spray paint and you laughed, a sparkle lighting up your face that was utterly new to me. After, we dangled in silence over the edge of the cliff, peering out at our city in the dark, hands just inches from touching, hands that ached to be touched.
But that wasn’t Daniel. That was Alex. Or was it Josh?
That’s the thing about writing a memoir. I was very social in Austin, so my first draft included over 30 people who had multiple scenes. But no reader can remember that. They say a book should have only seven characters of consequence.
So, meet Daniel.
Daniel doesn’t exist.
He’s a mishmash of a bunch of different people, a bunch of different moments, all impactful but too diffuse to tell through more than one person.
It feels dishonest, even though every moment is real. Writing a memoir is the weirdest thing.
Anyhow, I’m looping ‘God Is’ by Kanye over and over to get me in a certain vibe to write more Daniel scenes. And I feel self conscious talking to you here. I haven’t blogged as ‘me’ in so long and I’m rusty. All my writing has been going to my books. I wrote an end of year recap, as I do every year, but this year I felt too… silent to post it. And now we’re almost halfway through January, is it too late?
I’m not sure if I’m back to blogging. This might be a ‘hello’ or it might be an irish goodbye, only to pop in at some random house party 5 months later to wave to you awkwardly through the crowd.
So yeah, I’m writing a memoir. It’s about my time in Austin and the insane people I met and the insane person I became. I suck at summaries but I actually think it has promise. Or it’s trash. Probably both?
That’s all I got. waves to you awkwardly through the crowd
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