TO THOSE WHO RAN THE RISK

I am but an alchemist.

Now, for a note on storytelling.

I shared an upcoming piece with my friend the other day—she read it and graciously provided notes on an ending that was lacking.

“Trim some of the dialogue and end on a punchier line—it’s okay if you don’t tell the story exactly as it happened,” she instructed in the form of a voice note. “Remember, don’t let the truth get in the way of good writing.”

In the coming weeks, I will begin to share more entries here, including romantic trysts and relationships with people throughout my life. While I don’t imagine that many of my former paramours will be investing in a subscription here, it’s important to note that while these stories are based on certain undeniable truths, they are also riddled with minor enhancements, embellishments, and downright white lies.

Furthermore, nothing is intended to be a callout or even remotely offensive—it’s a way for me to practice my storytelling using the wealth of materials provided by those who have spurned, burned, or hurt me in one way or another. It seems these heartaches would almost be a waste if I wasn’t able to transform them into something else. I am the alchemist of my own pain—I use that which has wounded me to create art that’s intended to be humorous, thought-provoking, or enjoyable in some capacity.

So, in short, don’t take anything I say for gospel. If you do find your likeness here, remember, it’s a compliment—at the very least, you weren’t boring.