#35 Joseph Young: A Tiny Story

Joseph Young has traveled back and forth between Kalamazoo and San Francisco and San Francisco and Baltimore for most of his life. This wanderlust has always been a part of Joe’s life. He is most at home not being at home—that is, he is most at home being somewhere else. This sense of home has driven Joe to hitchhike across the country and to drive drive-away cars to anywhere. Once, he died on the railroad tracks in Mexico, though the significance of this event is obscure. Now he is alive again and becoming more comfortable with being at home, as well as becoming more comfortable with himself. While at home, he writes about art and writes what he describes as tiny stories that pop out of his head with no preconceived notion attached to them. He likes the sustained, intense concentration that the tiny stories require and the white space that contains the tiny stories. He likes the miles that he has traveled and the way that that distance surrounds his life.

[Update: Joseph Young's first book, Easter Rabbit, a book of microfictions, is now out with Publishing Genius. ]

#50: The Farsightedness of Peter Cole

When Peter Cole was in the womb, his early-teens mother and 20-something father were on the run from the FBI, presumably because of statutory rape charges, and escaped to Mexico, which has often made Peter feel special but wrong. As an infant, Peter often stared at light sources, especially lamps, and his first spoken word was light, which his mother (who can hear the voice of God) believed to be a sign of his enlightenment. This also may have been the source of his crooked eyes and the reason he needed glasses early in life. Peter grew up in the church, watched The 700 Club, and prayed for his eyes to be healed. But his eyes didn’t heal and he couldn’t hear the voice that his mother heard either, which made him feel evil. In school, Peter was a chunky loner, so he started a punk band. He played music for years, but now that part of his life is over. Peter didn’t think that he would ever get married until he met the woman who would become his wife. Her name was Annie Dillard and they met, in part, because a mutual friend saw him reading a book by an author named Annie Dillard who is a different Annie Dillard. Peter doesn’t know much about cars, but he is the parts manager at an auto shop, a job he keeps because he hates shaving and cutting his hair. Recently, he stopped wearing regular clothes and only wears his work uniforms. He doesn’t know if he will ever go back to Mexico, but through his farsightedness Peter knows he will have a great, domesticated life with Annie, their beautiful beagle, Lilly, and their kids who are not yet born.

[Note: This postcard life story is part of a series of postcard life stories that appear in Keyhole #6, which is edited by Peter Cole, and, in this particular case, guest edited by William Walsh, whose QUESTIONSTRUCK has just been published.]

#148: Even If Lesley Clark Isn’t Smiling, She Is Happy

Lesley Clark’s dad was French and black, her mom French and Norwegian. Growing up in San Antonio, most people thought she was Mexican (and so began her love affair with Mexico). At 2 months, Lesley escaped the tornado of 1976. At 4 years, Lesley already knew she wanted to be a writer and started writing stories about a little girl running away from home. At 5, her parents divorced, which Lesley always felt bad about because she got the mail the day that her mom received a letter that led to an argument with her dad (and probably contained the reason for the divorce). Lesley remembers her mom telling her dad that she didn't want anything—not the house, the car, or any furniture—except Lesley. Lesley’s mom was selfless and creative; she gave her an enriching childhood, always told her stories, introduced her to different cultures. They had theme nights and there were daily words to learn. In middle school and high school, Lesley’s dark wardrobe and depressing stories got her sent to the counselor’s office (luckily, the guidance counselor understood). For a time, Lesley wanted to be an auto mechanic, but wasn’t allowed to take auto classes. She dropped out of high school, briefly, because she was incredibly bored, and was going to get her GED and go directly to college, but went back for the diploma and finished high school with many honors. At college, she studied social psychology. At 21, Lesley dropped of a master’s program in creative writing at Antioch after a stalker followed her to Venice Beach. In her early 20’s, Lesley fell in love with a Mexican national named Fernando Hernandez Degollado. They always felt each other through music. It was a passionate and tumultuous 2 years that ended disastrously when he was deported (and Lesley felt like she stopped breathing). Lesley went to live with him in Mexico, but things got wild there, and she couldn’t handle any of it. Lesley came back to the states and her book of poems, The Absence of Colour, was published by Pecan Grove Press. After this, Lesley quit writing poetry. After leaving Fernando, she couldn't see things in poetic forms anymore. For 8 years after that, Lesley was involved with a musician named Jason Hernandez until they ended it amicably. At 29, Lesley rescued a kitten from an abandoned Nissan’s radio compartment; she had never had a pet before so she thought the kitten had a heart murmur when it purred the first time. In 2005, Lesley’s father passed away and it was difficult to lose him to an unexpected death (which may have been a cleverly concealed murder). It tore apart her father’s side of the family. Around this same time, Lesley was diagnosed with Celiac and really sick all the time. It was rough. Eventually, Lesley received her master's degree in creative writing from Fairleigh Dickinson. Recently, Fernando came back into Lesley’s life and she started writing poetry again. It all came rushing back. It might be a second chance at true love and now Lesley has to decide whether to follow him back to Mexico again. She doesn’t know what will happen next, but she will be happy no matter what it is.

#50 The Farsightedness of Peter Cole

When Peter Cole was in the womb, his early-teens mother and 20-something father were on the run from the FBI, presumably because of statutory rape charges, and escaped to Mexico, which has often made Peter feel special but wrong. As an infant, Peter often stared at light sources, especially lamps, and his first spoken word was light, which his mother (who can hear the voice of God) believed to be a sign of his enlightenment. This also may have been the source of his crooked eyes and the reason he needed glasses early in life. Peter grew up in the church, watched The 700 Club, and prayed for his eyes to be healed. But his eyes didn’t heal and he couldn’t hear the voice that his mother heard either, which made him feel evil. In school, Peter was a chunky loner, so he started a punk band. He played music for years, but now that part of his life is over. Peter didn’t think that he would ever get married until he met the woman who would become his wife. Her name was Annie Dillard and they met, in part, because a mutual friend saw him reading a book by an author named Annie Dillard who is a different Annie Dillard. Peter doesn’t know much about cars, but he is the parts manager at an auto shop, a job he keeps because he hates shaving and cutting his hair. Recently, he stopped wearing regular clothes and only wears his work uniforms. He doesn’t know if he will ever go back to Mexico, but through his farsightedness Peter knows he will have a great, domesticated life with Annie, their beautiful beagle, Lilly, and their kids who are not yet born.


Keyhole Magazine, which Peter edits

#035 A Tiny Story About Joe Young

Joe Young has traveled back and forth between Kalamazoo and San Francisco and San Francisco and Baltimore for most of his life. This wanderlust has always been a part of Joe’s life. He is most at home not being at home—that is, he is most at home being somewhere else. This sense of home has driven Joe to hitchhike across the country and to drive drive-away cars to anywhere. Once, he died on the railroad tracks in Mexico, though the significance of this event is obscure. Now he is alive again and becoming more comfortable with being at home, as well as becoming more comfortable with himself. While at home, he writes about art and writes what he describes as tiny stories that pop out of his head with no preconceived notion attached to them. He likes the sustained, intense concentration that the tiny stories require and the white space that contains the tiny stories. He likes the miles that he has traveled and the way that that distance surrounds his life.