Salaciousness & Despair: Writers and Notoriety

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Whether the story’s of the coming of age variety, or of one dancing on the cusp of madness, the newfound propensity to bask in the anguished undertow of another is getting a bit fatuous. Is this what it boils down to now, lots of salaciousness and lots more despair? Writers vetting for top sales and publicity via airing their dirty laundry to the world? Be it blogs, paperbacks, or vlogs, people everywhere are joining in on the my experience will make me loads of money bandwagon. Now I’m the first one to admit  my love for the truly depressing (Jude The Obscure, Giovanni’s Room, anyone?), but the incessant publication of memoirs and celebrity sob stories (funny how they always come out at just the right time) is overkill.

Reading through the plethora of glossy titles Barnes & Noble has to offer got me thinking of my own experiences I could parlay into a bestseller.

1) When I realized I was a miserable failure at rollerblading

This was particularly devastating as I come from a family of athletically gifted individuals. At first rolling up and down on a flat city block wasn’t so bad. It took a couple falls and a shaking fist at the sky, but I sort of got the hang of it. When it came time to skate up a slight hill, I just blew it. The momentum was too great and I ended up crawling up on bruised knees. Fail.

2) Me and fish tanks don’t go together 

I had just come home from school with my brother when he lodged his shoe into our ten gallon fish tank. Let’s just say water went everywhere and through the ceiling of the apartment below us. Also, the fish died.

3) The day my grandmother’s cat choked on an olive pit

One of my dear cousins had been eating olives and neglected to throw her chow in the garbage. Needless to say, the cat couldn’t resist the delicious aroma of black olives and proceeded to choke to death.

4) I called my fourth grade teacher mommy

Everyone laughed at me, but she gave me a rice crispy bar and a pint of milk to help ease my shame. This only increased it. Kids were still laughing.

All in all, I’ve had a marvelously full life. Do you see all that tension and drama, the eloquent shame of childhood embarrassment? With these few bits right here, I’ll be sure to write a killing.

P.S. This is what true misery looks like.

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