Tag Archives: nonfiction

New computer, new life, o algo

I have a MacBook now, and it’s wonderful. It’s kind of interesting how having a camera above your screen at all times really changes the way you compute. And running Ubuntu in Parallels is basically the coolest thing ever.

I have neglected this site since being back at Knox College, as usually happens with every non-Knox project I have going. But I will graduate soon, so don’t run away.

I’ve been writing a lot, mostly “creative non-fiction”, whatever that is. Here’s a story I wrote today that involves my good friend Jay over at fysigunk.us.



But it was fun when we made that drive to Steubenville, Ohio and got your fingernails done by a man named Nam whose brother, named Viet, was a friend of Jay’s and the school paid for it all. It was a tiger stripe acrylic job, and we made you curl your fingers towards us like a cat and say, Meow. We laughed and laughed.

Viet traveled from Seattle to Steubenville on a motorcycle to join his brother in the nail business. He was there for two weeks before he went back home. He traveled through our school on the way down. He stayed with Jay, and got into the safety report for shimmying up the walls in an apartment building hallway until he could press his back to the ceiling. Jay was going to call his story, Viet Goes to Nam, but before he could finish, we had to talk to Nam, too.

I had never been around you for this long before, and it was the first time we had really traveled together a decent distance. Holding the bottoms of your fingers gently under the light, Nam told us he had traveled all around the United States when he was a little younger. He now had a wife and kids and two nail salons in Steubenville that are fairly successful, following in the footsteps of his and Viet’s parents. After arriving in Seattle from Vietnam, the couple decided to open a nail salon named Nam Viet. Nam, being their oldest son, was named after their salon. So was their second, Viet. Nam said he was happy in Steubenville because he realized one day that “everyplace is the same” and stopped traveling.

We got back in my car to return to Illinois. The northeast Ohio steel towns hidden into the Smokey mountains would surprise us as we drove around bends, exist for a minute, then be gone again. Brilliant was the name of one town, mere miles from Steubenville. Every corner of a massive steel frame structure lit with a single light. But there were hundreds and hundreds of these corners throwing their light across the mirror of a lake. I slowed the car, trying to hold onto the view as long as I could.

I held your hand, then. Jay never finished the story.


I have really enjoyed writing again, as it’s been a while since I really sat down and wrote a “creative” story (as in, not a story for the newspaper, not that those aren’t creative, also). I am going to write a script for a YouTube personality, I think. It’s an interesting format for a fiction writer, I feel. I’ll see where that goes, though I probably won’t be able to talk about it too much, since it’s supposed to be all “real” and stuff or whatever.

I will try to write here more. I have decided that my posts do not need to be perfect, so I will try to up the quantity and see if the quality really goes down that much. Let me know what you think.

To leave, I embed to you a video that will turn your brain to shit. It’s Peter Aidu performing Steve Reich’s Piano Phase. Simply put, one hand is playing the same thing as the other, but at a very slightly different tempo. You will see what happens.



Filed under My Life