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<!-- SC_OFF --><div class="md"><p>Posted. na na na FUCK REDDIT</p> | ||
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<p>I have decided to move out of the sober house. People usually stay here a couple months. I've stayed here over six months. Honestly, I'm finding it hard to live in the same house with Shawn. He's never been easy to live with, and lately we've been getting in arguments about little shit like chores. On top of that, I'm freaked out by his story about the room full of bone. I've come up with a few theories about why he would tell me that story -- and why he would insist it was real. None of these theories are terribly comforting.</p> | ||
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<p>I want to put it behind me. For a while, I had actually considered finding the warehouse that he mentioned. Maybe it would give me some answers. But I've decided: fuck that. I'm not going to some goddamn warehouse in crack city. I don't need an ending to my story that badly. I'll just do what I've been doing: make shit up.</p> | ||
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<p>Actually, I've been stuck for the past few days. I can't really come up with anything that seems fitting as an ending. I've been considering just leaving it unfinished. Maybe not all stories should have ending. Endings are lies.</p> | ||
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<p>I've realized that AA meetings are just a form of storytelling. That's what we do in meetings. We sit in a circle and tell each other stories. Oh, we pretend like it's all real life. But every time somebody shares, they make an attempt to "storify" their life, to make it into some tidy little parable. Sometimes the parables are profound and touching, and sometimes they're absurd or clichéd or just terrible.</p> | ||
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<p>A guy in meeting might tell a story about how he got into an argument with his boss, and he might end it with something like, "... and that's how I learned I need to stand up for himself." Except maybe arguing with his boss was a terrible idea. Maybe he's trying to portray stupidity as wisdom. Or maybe it really was wisdom. Either way, he's packaging the truth up as a story with a lesson at the end. And this covers up one of the essential facts of life: that it just keeps going along, not giving a shit about our attempts to explain it.</p> | ||
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<p>There are these moments in life when the goal is achieved and the story should end and the credits should roll. But instead, it just keeps going the fuck along. The guy gets the girl, and now they have to live with each other. She farts a lot, and he hogs the shower. Or the underdog teams wins the tournament, and now they have to get ready for the next season. 10 seasons later, they're all retired, sitting around and scratching their balls.</p> | ||
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<p>That's the first big problem the recovering alcoholic encounters. We make the inspiring and courageous decision to walk away from our whole way of life to try something new. The story could end there. But it doesn't. Instead, life stretches on, and we have to live day after day with the grinding boredom of sobriety.</p> | ||
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<p>So maybe the interface story should be like that. No tidy ending. Just "Here. Take or leave it." Except that's lame. That's a rip off. I'll just wait. Some kind of ending will come to me. But I'm not going to that warehouse, though. Fuck no. I'm not asking Shawn any more about it either. If I have to make up a shitty ending, that's fine. A lot of good books have shitty endings. At this point, I'm just a little burned out.</p> | ||
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<p>After I'm done, I'm going to put aside writing and work on my social life for a while. I'm going to try to change my number of friends from zero to a positive integer. I thought maybe I could find a group of friends in recovery, but it hasn't happened. I don't like recovery people. They're corny and boring. I've found a room to rent near downtown in an arty neighborhood. As a soon-to-be acclaimed writer (ha!), don't I belong among the thinkers and the artistes?</p> | ||
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<p>[<em>The end to this chapter doesn't feel believable. After everything that this character has said previously, how could he come to this decision so lightly? Sure, he's a self-deceiving alcoholic. Sure, people make crazy decisions on a whim all the time. This might be</em> realistic, <em>but it is not</em> believable. <em>A novel must have more logic than real life. The events in a novel must operate by a chain of cause and effect that the reader can follow. If you're going to have somebody completely contradict their previously expressed viewpoints, it has to be the result of some event happening in their life which causes them to change. The bigger the change in the character, the bigger the event must be. Before you post this, I would rewrite it, playing up the conflict with Shawn. Make it into a full-blown fight that forces the narrator to move out. Then have the narrator living alone, going to stir-crazy, which leads him to make the fateful choice.</em> -- K.]</p> | ||
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<p>I'm going to get in touch with some old friends, and I'm going to go out and meet people. I'll just try to get a small circle of friends started. I know how to meet friends. I've always known how. It's easy. I'm going to drink again.</p> | ||
</div><!-- SC_ON --> |
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Posted. na na na FUCK REDDIT | ||
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I have decided to move out of the sober house. People usually stay here a couple months. I've stayed here over six months. Honestly, I'm finding it hard to live in the same house with Shawn. He's never been easy to live with, and lately we've been getting in arguments about little shit like chores. On top of that, I'm freaked out by his story about the room full of bone. I've come up with a few theories about why he would tell me that story -- and why he would insist it was real. None of these theories are terribly comforting. | ||
|
||
I want to put it behind me. For a while, I had actually considered finding the warehouse that he mentioned. Maybe it would give me some answers. But I've decided: fuck that. I'm not going to some goddamn warehouse in crack city. I don't need an ending to my story that badly. I'll just do what I've been doing: make shit up. | ||
|
||
Actually, I've been stuck for the past few days. I can't really come up with anything that seems fitting as an ending. I've been considering just leaving it unfinished. Maybe not all stories should have ending. Endings are lies. | ||
|
||
I've realized that AA meetings are just a form of storytelling. That's what we do in meetings. We sit in a circle and tell each other stories. Oh, we pretend like it's all real life. But every time somebody shares, they make an attempt to "storify" their life, to make it into some tidy little parable. Sometimes the parables are profound and touching, and sometimes they're absurd or clichéd or just terrible. | ||
|
||
A guy in meeting might tell a story about how he got into an argument with his boss, and he might end it with something like, "... and that's how I learned I need to stand up for himself." Except maybe arguing with his boss was a terrible idea. Maybe he's trying to portray stupidity as wisdom. Or maybe it really was wisdom. Either way, he's packaging the truth up as a story with a lesson at the end. And this covers up one of the essential facts of life: that it just keeps going along, not giving a shit about our attempts to explain it. | ||
|
||
There are these moments in life when the goal is achieved and the story should end and the credits should roll. But instead, it just keeps going the fuck along. The guy gets the girl, and now they have to live with each other. She farts a lot, and he hogs the shower. Or the underdog teams wins the tournament, and now they have to get ready for the next season. 10 seasons later, they're all retired, sitting around and scratching their balls. | ||
|
||
That's the first big problem the recovering alcoholic encounters. We make the inspiring and courageous decision to walk away from our whole way of life to try something new. The story could end there. But it doesn't. Instead, life stretches on, and we have to live day after day with the grinding boredom of sobriety. | ||
|
||
So maybe the interface story should be like that. No tidy ending. Just "Here. Take or leave it." Except that's lame. That's a rip off. I'll just wait. Some kind of ending will come to me. But I'm not going to that warehouse, though. Fuck no. I'm not asking Shawn any more about it either. If I have to make up a shitty ending, that's fine. A lot of good books have shitty endings. At this point, I'm just a little burned out. | ||
|
||
After I'm done, I'm going to put aside writing and work on my social life for a while. I'm going to try to change my number of friends from zero to a positive integer. I thought maybe I could find a group of friends in recovery, but it hasn't happened. I don't like recovery people. They're corny and boring. I've found a room to rent near downtown in an arty neighborhood. As a soon-to-be acclaimed writer (ha!), don't I belong among the thinkers and the artistes? | ||
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[*The end to this chapter doesn't feel believable. After everything that this character has said previously, how could he come to this decision so lightly? Sure, he's a self-deceiving alcoholic. Sure, people make crazy decisions on a whim all the time. This might be* realistic, *but it is not* believable. *A novel must have more logic than real life. The events in a novel must operate by a chain of cause and effect that the reader can follow. If you're going to have somebody completely contradict their previously expressed viewpoints, it has to be the result of some event happening in their life which causes them to change. The bigger the change in the character, the bigger the event must be. Before you post this, I would rewrite it, playing up the conflict with Shawn. Make it into a full-blown fight that forces the narrator to move out. Then have the narrator living alone, going to stir-crazy, which leads him to make the fateful choice.* -- K.] | ||
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I'm going to get in touch with some old friends, and I'm going to go out and meet people. I'll just try to get a small circle of friends started. I know how to meet friends. I've always known how. It's easy. I'm going to drink again. |
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