To the Reader

In my writing, I can’t help but be honest and vulnerable and sometimes, overly graphic; otherwise, it comes off as fake and insincere, an exercise in concealment over disclosure. While I wanna adhere to the truth as much as possible, I don’t wanna dox anyone by putting their dirty laundry out there. For that reason, I have changed the names of the people in these stories (but not all!), in order to protect the reputations of the people involved. So, if you see your name among these annals, and we never shared the experience I’m describing, rest assured, I’m not talking about you.

I made a few egregious mistakes of this kind on my old blog. First, I had posted pictures unrelated to the story at hand to underscore the feeling of authenticity (well, this was partially due to the prof that taught the class for which I had started the blog–he recommended pics as a way to engage readers). Then, I posted a story I had written for a creative writing class. Comprised of true but unrelated events, I cleverly linked them together for narrative purposes, which had the effect of making everyone, myself included, seem like much shittier people. Finally, I changed everybody’s names but when I had done so, I chose the same name of the girl in the picture I had posted along with the story. I was probably (okay, definitely) high when I did this so I never made a conscious connection between my friend in the picture and the name of the character.

I thought nothing of it, wasn’t even cognizant of the correlation until the girl from the photo called me, obviously upset, and pointed out what I had done. She proceeded to list all the the ways this could affect her personally and professionally before I cut her off, horrified, and apologized profusely for my careless mistake. I wasn’t tying to present to the world a revisionist personal history where we had slept together. Honestly, she was really pretty and probably out of my league at the time so I’d definitely benefit from that perception but she definitely would not, especially because that character wasn’t …let’s just say, the most upright citizen and partner. So I immediately took down the picture, changed the names, and made other edits to remedy the situation.

I felt terrible for the (unintentional) misrepresentation, giving her grief from sheer carelessness. While it’s true I really only write for myself, I’m continually reminding myself to be aware of how I can affect someone thru these stories. I promise to take the necessary precautions to protect someone’s identity as well as that everything I’ve recounted is true (to the best of my xannie-addled memory). 

I once had someone tell me that my writing helped her deal with her depression. That made me very happy. And then I reflected on how these stories were borne from my own struggle and constant melancholy, as a means of keeping that black cloud at bay. But these stories are also a labor of love, a heartfelt embrace of the past reconciling me to the present. I hope you enjoy them.