You're scared to win, scared to lose I've heard the war was over if you really choose The one in and around you You hate the heat, you got the blues Changing like the weather, oh, that's so like you
Your storytelling hits that perfect collision of the grotesque and the sentimental—the way adolescence convinces us that every bad decision is a grand moment we’ll never escape. The private school break-in, the wild turkeys, the manic urgency of young desire… it all feels bizarrely believable, almost mythic in its chaos. It even stirred a little nostalgia in me for my own teenage antics—those messy, impulsive years where everything felt equal parts ridiculous and unforgettable. The voice stays raw without ever losing its heart.
Dr. Salmon - I find myself always looping back days after the fact to find the moment, intent and agency to reply properly in kind to you. the truth is, you continue to bring out things I was not even aware of (textually, subtextually, and all points west) when creating the work itself. The mirror with which you have reflected these things to me is a cherished thing [on these pages tumbling otherwise through cyberspace]. I have learned and continue to learn from people like you. Thank you again. You give me much to think about.
I think we should use are time here to lift each other up. There’s a real thread of uncertainty that runs through so many writers and artists — and I’m certainly not exempt from that. Because of it, I try to read with an eye for what’s good, what’s unique, and what stands out in someone’s voice. If I can offer a thought that reinforces that strength or brings a bit of encouragement, I’m glad to do it. We’re all trying to find our footing, and it feels right to help steady one another where we can.
And please feel free to share your own impressions of my meagre writings as well. I’m always grateful for honest reflections, and I welcome anything that helps me see the work from another angle. That exchange is part of what keeps all of this growing.
You always know how to develop story, add humor, tension, & relational dicing to each situation. I long for this gift — for now I will read yours 🤩💯+💯😆
un chein andalou [1929]. I believe it. Or the scene in Kaufman’s seminal feature Henry and June where Bunel I believe is cast as a cameo yelling at his own film “Obscene! Obscene!”
omg this is so posh and cute. i lost my virginity on top of alex sawayas sink in his family bathroom while his parents were gone. i was 16 and it lasted a full 4 seconds and no i remember thinking to myself, this cannot be what everyone is talking about. his mom had come home quite soon after and made dinner for us, so i sat uncomfortable at the dinner table while alex grinned from ear to ear as if he did something miraculous.
your story is much cooler. im jealous in the good, happy for you kind of way
This is one of the greatest comments I have ever received; I have [better] memories of having sex on other people's sinks, and it was very posh and very cute [I was wearing clothes that I probably found somewhere to most of our dates].
if you caught a turkey, would you have just stuffed it into your car, or tried to kill it and pluck the feathers, likely still sitting in the driveway until parents came to the gravel to gather the paper?
"The world was ripe for fire" is the perfect way to conclude any sex story.
thank you. that means a lot, especially coming from you.
Your storytelling hits that perfect collision of the grotesque and the sentimental—the way adolescence convinces us that every bad decision is a grand moment we’ll never escape. The private school break-in, the wild turkeys, the manic urgency of young desire… it all feels bizarrely believable, almost mythic in its chaos. It even stirred a little nostalgia in me for my own teenage antics—those messy, impulsive years where everything felt equal parts ridiculous and unforgettable. The voice stays raw without ever losing its heart.
Dr. Salmon - I find myself always looping back days after the fact to find the moment, intent and agency to reply properly in kind to you. the truth is, you continue to bring out things I was not even aware of (textually, subtextually, and all points west) when creating the work itself. The mirror with which you have reflected these things to me is a cherished thing [on these pages tumbling otherwise through cyberspace]. I have learned and continue to learn from people like you. Thank you again. You give me much to think about.
I think we should use are time here to lift each other up. There’s a real thread of uncertainty that runs through so many writers and artists — and I’m certainly not exempt from that. Because of it, I try to read with an eye for what’s good, what’s unique, and what stands out in someone’s voice. If I can offer a thought that reinforces that strength or brings a bit of encouragement, I’m glad to do it. We’re all trying to find our footing, and it feels right to help steady one another where we can.
And please feel free to share your own impressions of my meagre writings as well. I’m always grateful for honest reflections, and I welcome anything that helps me see the work from another angle. That exchange is part of what keeps all of this growing.
You always know how to develop story, add humor, tension, & relational dicing to each situation. I long for this gift — for now I will read yours 🤩💯+💯😆
I don't know what the hell I am doing, but am flattered you believe there is some kind of method to my madness. :)
You know.. they asked Salvador Dali if he was on drugs, & he replied “I the drug, take me”
un chein andalou [1929]. I believe it. Or the scene in Kaufman’s seminal feature Henry and June where Bunel I believe is cast as a cameo yelling at his own film “Obscene! Obscene!”
Keep summoning your artistic madness! the rest of us will interpret the omens.
Honestly, that’s the beauty of it. Bunel shouted obscene at his own film (& Dali declares himself the drug)
True artistry often looks chaotic from the inside. Your instinct IS the method. The subconscious edits better than anything we can rationally outline.
Keep summoning your artistic madness! the rest of us will interpret the omens.
Honestly, that’s the beauty of it. Buñuel shouted obscene at his own film (& Dali declares himself the drug)
True artistry often looks chaotic from the inside. Your instinct IS the method. The subconscious edits better than anything we can rationally outline.
omg this is so posh and cute. i lost my virginity on top of alex sawayas sink in his family bathroom while his parents were gone. i was 16 and it lasted a full 4 seconds and no i remember thinking to myself, this cannot be what everyone is talking about. his mom had come home quite soon after and made dinner for us, so i sat uncomfortable at the dinner table while alex grinned from ear to ear as if he did something miraculous.
your story is much cooler. im jealous in the good, happy for you kind of way
This is one of the greatest comments I have ever received; I have [better] memories of having sex on other people's sinks, and it was very posh and very cute [I was wearing clothes that I probably found somewhere to most of our dates].
PS - your story is still fun and good!
Teen fiction & Tuesday mescaline
All the makings of a good party.
Nick Smith : "my head. It's my head"
you make it easy for me to relive my uneasiness 💪
I have no idea what you mean, dear.
That’s ok.
I’ll keep reading, remembering, relating, if you keep writing.
if you caught a turkey, would you have just stuffed it into your car, or tried to kill it and pluck the feathers, likely still sitting in the driveway until parents came to the gravel to gather the paper?
I didn't have a car. The family and I drove up from Park Avenue.
trunk of family car = messy. plucking a bird is a significant amount of work. (maybe that is why i quit eating meat).
As you may have guessed, I spent a large part of my life never thinking that far ahead. *sage nod*