I read six short stories online today and every single one of them was absolutely terrible. When I'm trying to find something to write about and I have six busts in a row it's pretty frustrating. I should have just gone with one of them and ripped it in my review section but after three it became a personal quest to find something that I didn't hate. As of this minute, I haven't found anything yet.
I had a couple, after reading yesterday's blog entry, email me and give me condolences for having my mother die nine years ago. Not necessary. She's gone and I'm at peace. I don't want anyone walking on eggshells around me because I have a dead mother. Everyone will eventually have a dead mom; it's one of those life things.
Right now I'm in my office, typing on my laptop with the television on in front of me tuned to a music channel of "hip-hop classics" and my cat, Dwight, is sitting right in front of the TV licking his crotch. It's fairly distracting.
Tiny Little Cracks by Justin Brouckaert
After reading two more short stories that I hated, I went to The Rumpus website and found this little gem of a personal narrative essay. It's about the author and his relationship with his friend and running partner, Mike, as well as his relationship with running in general. The friends ran and trained together in high school until Justin (author) hurt his leg/knee and couldn't run for awhile. When that happened, Mike lost his love for running and found a affinity for drugs which eventually led to an overdose for which Justin partially blames himself.
Essay: 9 of 10
I enjoyed the piece a great deal, especially the passion that Brouckaert shows when he writes about running and being tough about the pain and the grind. The scenes shift around between current day, high school, and post running days and there is something powerful about the choice to avoid the non-linear narrative.
Teachability: 9 of 10
Some kids aren't interested in running or athletics at all, but this essay is more about friendship and responsibility. The running part could even be treated as metaphor. I think that my kids would enjoy reading and talking about this piece.