Episode 7: Storytime – The Ones We Never Submitted
This week on Write Your Heart Out, Kayla and Rachel read the stories they didn’t submit to the Reedsy contest—and wow, you’re in for a ride. Kayla's story, “The Muse,” features a moody writer, a mysterious muse, and an ex-fan with unsettling cinnamon energy. Rachel shares “An Extra Scoop of Revenge,” a tale of friendship and arson.
Also in this jam-packed Storytime episode:
– Our first-ever listener-submitted poem (thank you MJ!)
– Rachel debuts a flamingo poem that starts in a zoo and ends in full mama bear mode
– A new writing assignment inspired by Chuck Palahniuk: write a secret you’ll never confirm or deny.
If you like literary chaos, mermaids, twisted sisterhoods, and hot pink vengeance—this one’s for you.
Please subscribe, rate and review!
New episodes every Wednesday.
E-mail us your short story at contact@writeyourheartoutpod.com
Follow us on instagram @writeyourheartoutpod
Leave us a message at 650-260-4885
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
SPEAKER_00 (00:00):
Write your heart out.
SPEAKER_01 (00:10):
Hey everybody.
Hi.
I'm Kayla Ogden.
And I'm Rachel Sear.
And this is Write Your HeartOut.
Here we are.
And today we're doing a storytime.
This is based on the promptsthat we chose for the Readsy
competition.
They have a competition called,I think, Prompted, where every
(00:32):
week you choose from a prompt,you submit your short story, and
then if it gets chosen to win,you win 250 bucks.
And you also maybe get publishedin their magazine.
At first, we have
SPEAKER_02 (00:44):
to remind them of what our prompts were.
SPEAKER_01 (00:46):
Yeah.
SPEAKER_02 (00:47):
Okay.
But then also, we did I didn'thave a lot of very great things
to say about Reezy in the...
SPEAKER_01 (00:53):
No.
So you would have, you thelistener, you would have just
listened to an episode where wedetail our experience with
trying to submit these storiesto Reezy.
Did either of us actually...
I didn't submit mine.
I did not submit mine.
Okay.
So you've learned, or if you goback to the last episode, you'll
learn why we didn't actually endup...
You're right.
(01:42):
I did like what I wrote.
And I like what you wrote.
I'm excited to hear it.
Okay, so my prompt that I endedup choosing in the end was, it
was a sentence that I had toinclude.
It's in here somewhere.
It's something like, I felt likeI couldn't control myself.
Oh, actually, you know what?
It's funny.
I took that out.
(02:05):
Well, once you knew you weren'tgoing to submit anymore, like,
fuck it, you know?
Yeah, but basically, I had justshoved in there the prompt, the
line.
It was as if I had no controlover myself or something like
(02:29):
that.
Oh, right, right, right.
SPEAKER_02 (02:41):
which is so awesome.
And so you'll get to hear theirvoice reading their poem.
And we haven't heard it yet.
So we'll be all hearing it forthe first time together, which
is very exciting.
SPEAKER_01 (02:53):
Yes.
And if you would like to submita short story or a poem for us
to read on the pod, you can callus at 650-260-4885.
Or you can email us at contactat writeyourheartoutpod.com.
And if we like it, we will readit on the pod.
SPEAKER_02 (03:14):
Yeah, or maybe if we, like, really hate it, we'll
read it on the pod.
Oh, yeah, maybe we'll rip yourheart
SPEAKER_01 (03:20):
out.
We could rename it Rip YourHeart Out.
Maybe
SPEAKER_02 (03:23):
there'll be a Rip Your Heart Out episode every
once in a while.
Oh, my gosh.
That'd be fun.
Yeah, if you want to
SPEAKER_01 (03:29):
submit something that you know.
UNKNOWN (03:32):
Oh, I mean, like, not for you, maybe.
SPEAKER_01 (03:34):
If you want to submit something that you know
is complete horseshit that youwrote when you were 15 and you
want us to hurt your feelings,Louis C.K.
style.
SPEAKER_02 (03:44):
Louis C.K., exactly.
We
SPEAKER_01 (03:47):
will do that for you.
But please don't hurt myfeelings about my work.
I only want to hear good thingsand critiques that are useful.
Yes.
Okay, wait.
I'm ready.
I'm ready.
All right.
This is The News by Kayla Ogden.
I had an idea last year, but Iwas drunk at the time.
(04:07):
I tapped my keyboard and createda synopsis for my sophomore book
series, which I sent to myeditor via my agent.
That synopsis, along with thewild success of my last trilogy,
landed me a new three-book deal.
Now I'd had over 11 months towrite the first draft, but the
synopsis could not be worked.
It was complete crap andbullshit.
(04:30):
I had already confessed mydisdain for the idea to my
agent.
He told me not to change itbecause the editor liked it.
My agent was a pussy, and so wasI.
I was stuck writing a storyabout a protagonist whose mother
was abducted by hisex-girlfriend.
Did I want to write from thepoint of view of a cisgendered
straight male?
Absolutely not.
I was known for my YAromanticist series with LGBTQIA
(04:55):
plus characters, who were alsomerpeople.
Dark seas, pale fins.
My readership would be pissed ifI veered too far off genre.
Maybe the hero in this newseries could be fairy royalty
with they, them pronouns?
No, that sucked too.
I tried calling my mom for thethird time that week.
(05:15):
She always had the best advice.
I left another voicemail.
There was a new man in her lifeI knew.
She must have been busy withhim.
In the vast penthouse suite,with my head on the glossy desk,
I wondered...
What if I summon the muse?
I'd never done that before, butI knew a lot of artists did.
I opened my laptop and navigatedto ChatGPT, where I asked how to
(05:36):
summon the muse.
It spat out a short prayer andseveral rituals.
Only one of the rituals wasdoable from my hotel room.
A fan had accosted me on thestreet earlier that day, and in
a fit of excitement, she gave methe gift bag she had been
carrying, which contained ablood-red artisan candle.
I signed her forearm and Iwondered if she'd skip brunch
(05:56):
altogether and go directly to atattoo parlor.
Now I silently thanked her as Ifilled the sink with cold water.
I lit the candle and waiteduntil the wax on top turned to
liquid.
As the earthy cinnamon scentfilled the air, I rewrote the
prayer ChatGPT gave me in myhead.
I am a fucking writer after all.
And whispered, Mews, I'm here.
(06:17):
I'm listening, my dear.
My ear is turned up to thenight.
Sing to me so I can write.
I poured the melted wax into thewater.
It hardened into a strange shapewhich I plucked out with my
fingers and examined.
It was supposed to be a luckytalisman.
I cocked my head as I regardedthe shape.
It looked like a sun with solarflares?
But no.
(06:38):
It looked like a head with longflowing hair all around.
It even seemed to have adelicate neck.
I gave it a peck.
on its smooth face.
I strode to my desk and placedthe tiny waxen bust beside my
computer inside.
Maybe the muse was running late.
No, I was the one running late.
I rushed to the theater indowntown San Francisco for my
(06:59):
conversation with Ursula Sargentabout the last installment of
Dark Seas, Pale Fins.
The talk went well and theaudience laughed when I dodged
questions about my upcomingrelease with self-deprecating
humor.
In the lobby, I sat behind afolding table next to a stack of
my books.
Most people approached shyly,blurting out one of five
comments I would hear from therest of the folks in line.
(07:22):
I tried very hard not to yawn.
So many of the young women therehad dyed their hair fire engine
red, imitating Envyra, theslightly crazy heroine mermaid
of the last two books.
Some wore a naturally paleconcealer and glitter on their
faces.
There had been nights like thiswhen the fans would blur into a
skin-toned line tapering offaround the corner.
(07:43):
Other nights were excitingbecause cool people were in
line.
People I'd like to be friendswith, to make art with, to make
out with.
And occasionally, there was abig fan.
This person would be at the veryfront or the very end of the
line.
The person wanted to make animpression on me.
Rule number one of being afamous author, never fuck the
big fans.
(08:04):
I had learned that the hard wayyears ago on a different trip to
San Francisco and never made thesame mistake again.
Tonight, the big fan was at theend of the line.
I could feel her nervous,unhinged energy radiating toward
me when there were still tenpeople obscuring my view.
My big fan finally had her turnand stepped up to the table with
her paperback clutched in bothof her hands like a serving
(08:26):
tray.
She wore a black sweater withthe hood pulled over her head.
And the string cinched and tiedunder her chin so that only a
circle of her pale face wasvisible.
On her legs was a floor-lengthsilky mint green skirt that
covered her toes.
I pulled the book from her grip,punched over the title page, and
said, Thanks for waiting.
Who would you like it made outto?
(08:47):
Me, she shouted.
I startled at the volume.
How do you spell your nameagain?
How many years had it been sincethat bookstore signing here in
SF?
I swallowed.
It had been four years.
I glanced up and gave her atight smile.
I met your mom, she said.
No way.
My mother lived in Texas.
I checked my watch.
(09:09):
I lifted the pen and began tosign the page.
Fuck the handwritten note.
Where did you meet her?
Getting groceries.
She didn't see me, though, shesaid, pulling loose the bow
under her chin, sweeping thehood behind her head.
Her long, shining copper hairbounced on her shoulders in
voluminous swoops.
I smelled cinnamon.
I kept my face still, eventhough I could feel my pulse in
(09:31):
my lips.
I looked down at my chest,willing it not to heave.
You didn't tell her about me?
She bit her fingertip.
Why would I tell my mother aboutyou, Esme?
Oh, I don't know.
She giggled.
I slapped the book close, pushedmy chair back and stood, gaining
the height advantage.
I handed the book back to herand said, thanks.
(09:51):
I'll see you around, okay?
Cool, bye now.
I shrugged on my Louis Vuittonbackpack and walked toward the
event organizer at the bar.
I could feel Esme's eyes on theback of my head, or maybe my
ass.
Anyway, I could tell Esme wasjust still standing there.
Queasy feeling came over me as Iturned back.
What's up?
Can we go for a drink?
She asked.
No, get home safe.
(10:12):
Can I stay with you?
I dropped my chin and looked ather through my brow.
We didn't talk on the way up tothe penthouse suite.
She stared at me in theelevator.
I pretended not to notice.
She grabbed the empty ice bucketand went straight to the
bathroom.
Was I meant to follow?
She didn't shut the door.
I followed.
She unzipped the huge blackhoodie and let it fall onto the
(10:34):
dark tiles of the opulentbathroom, revealing the rest of
the silky pale green dress.
She turned on the bath, filledthe ice bucket with cold water,
and handed it to me.
She slipped the straps off hershoulders and her chest was
suddenly bare.
Her skin was so white it almostglowed.
The dress hugged her waist,hips, and thighs, but flared at
mid-calf, covering her feet.
(10:55):
She laid herself down, rightthere on the shining black
tiles, fanning her hair out allaround her head.
Slowly, I poured the water onher.
She gasped as goosebumps coveredher body and her red nipples
stiffened.
I straddled her and drank thewater from every place it
pooled.
I wanted to die in the shower.
This might have been the worstmistake I ever made.
(11:15):
I prayed that she'd be gone whenI got out.
I cinched the robe around mywaist and found her at the desk,
fidgeting with my little waxtalisman.
I gazed at the back of her head.
She had dried her hair, and inthe lamplight, it was the color
of fox fur.
I thought of foxes, sexy foxes,fox people, hot young adults
with tails who lived inintricate underground homes, a
(11:37):
headstrong fox girl.
She wants to sleep under the skywith a sexual werewolf, a story,
a series.
She turned to me.
"'Your mama's so funny, youknow?' I cleared my throat.
"'Okay, how did you evenrecognize her?' At the grocery
store, you said?
She grinned.
I walked toward her.
Esme, listen.
I know you think you're Envira,that I based her on you, but
(12:00):
even if it were true, it doesn'tmean I owe you money.
She narrowed her eyes.
She went with you to the MorrisAward ceremony.
What?
Who?
Your mom.
I saw a photo of you with her atthe ceremony.
That's how I recognized her.
At the grocery store, silly.
I knew the photo.
It had been printed in anout-and-about section of a
lesser-known Chicago newspaper afew years ago.
(12:22):
It was a two-page spread withscrapbook-style photos of minor
celebrities, local governmentofficials, at holiday events,
banquets, and the like.
My mom had tried to play itcool, but I saw three copies of
that paper in her suitcasebefore she flew home.
I glanced around the room, forwhat I didn't know.
It felt tighter in here than ithad before.
I said, whatever, hey, I have asuper early morning.
5 a.m.
(12:43):
flight, can you believe that?
No.
Can I call you an Uber?
I'll stay up and wait with youuntil it gets here.
The Uber was five minutes away.
I threw on some sweats, pulledon my boots, and led Esme down
the hall to the elevator.
I yawned for effect and staredat the Uber app on my phone,
which wouldn't work in theelevator anyway.
We stood on the sidewalk insilence for a minute, watching a
small fleet of scooters speed byon the street.
(13:06):
Then Esme said, oh, right,that's what I wanted to tell
you.
Your mom didn't see me at first,so I went up to her.
Anyway, she ended up coming backto the place that I was staying,
and guess what?
I blinked.
I turned squarely to face her.
What?
I winded in my stance, crossedmy arms over my chest, lifted my
chin.
Try me.
Fuck around and find out.
(13:26):
A car pulled up to the curb.
Is this it?
She asked casually.
I checked the license plateagainst her order on the app and
opened the back door for her.
She climbed in and I shut thedoor, eager to call my mom to
get to the bottom of this.
Her window rolled down and shesaid, I think she really likes
it there.
She has the basement all toherself, and no one ever goes
(13:46):
down there.
I'll give her phone back to herwhen I get home, and you can
talk to her, I promise.
She must be so bored down theresince I've been away.
Anyways, I hope you'llreconsider the money.
Muses really should be paid,don't you think?
I stood, shaking my head as hercar pulled away.
Without thinking, I stepped ontothe street, eyes on my screen
that would track her ride.
(14:07):
A cyclist swerved around me,cursing at the top of his lungs.
I stumbled back onto the curb,dropping my phone in the
process.
It slipped clean through themetal grate of the gutter,
straight between the slots, likea slice of bread in a toaster.
I fell to my hands and kneesabove the sewer and screamed
into the darkness as the putridscent of cinnamon.
wafted up into my face.
SPEAKER_02 (14:29):
Ooh, baby.
I haven't heard it, or I readit, obviously, back when we did
the Readsie thing, but I haven'theard it since, and I love the
edits.
Oh, yeah.
SPEAKER_01 (14:41):
Rachel helped me with the edits.
Actually, I really, really likedwhat you suggested.
Oh, good.
There's a whole line that isRachel's, which is the watching
a small fleet of scooters gopast.
I'm like, that is So SanFrancisco as well.
It really is.
Yes.
Oh, good old San Francisco andour scooters.
Yes.
(15:02):
So that was my Reezy submission.
And now shall we hear fromRachel?
You can hear from me.
SPEAKER_02 (15:09):
I am going to give a couple little...
Not a couple.
One major disclaimer.
It's long.
It's long.
I...
I'm sorry.
I'm not sorry.
We're entertaining
SPEAKER_01 (15:25):
them for
SPEAKER_02 (15:26):
free.
Sure.
Yeah, for free.
It's for free.
So you listen.
Okay.
So this is called An Extra Scoopof Revenge.
And this, well, I don't know.
I hope you like it.
I guess that's it.
Oh, what was your prompt?
Oh, my prompt.
Thank you.
Thank you.
So the prompt for mine was astory of revenge where the
(15:52):
protagonist could have chosenforgiveness.
Right?
I believe that was it.
SPEAKER_01 (15:58):
Yeah, but chooses not to.
SPEAKER_02 (16:00):
Yeah, they could have chosen forgiveness, but
instead they chose revenge.
Okay, here we go.
We were best friends.
In kindergarten, when we met, weinstantly bonded over hanging
upside down on the monkey bars.
We had what seemed like hours ofconversation like this with the
blood rushing to our heads.
In third grade, we agreed thattalking upside down was when we
were the most funny and that weshould live in an upside down
(16:22):
world.
My hair would dangle in aknotted curly mess while
Cassie's hair hung in perfectgolden tendrils.
Her mom took great care of herhair while my mom never bothered
to help me find my brush at all.
There was something about ourfriendship that felt unique,
like we had an unbreakable bondPeople often mistook us as
sisters, and it was true, welooked a lot alike, both with
green eyes and blonde curls.
(16:43):
The older we got, the more thishappened.
In high school, someone asked usif we were twins almost every
time we went out.
Cassie's family had a beautifulhome on Cat Hill Drive.
They had dinner together everynight playing warm fuzzies and
cold pricklies, which was theirsilly way of sharing about their
day.
Sometimes, instead of makingdinner on Sundays, her mom would
serve ice cream Sundays becauseif they didn't want you to do
(17:05):
that, then they would have namedit Undies.
not Sunday, Kathy would say.
I loved her.
I wanted her to be my mom.
I would sit up at night and wishon stars for her to take me
away.
Now we are 18.
Cassie and I still do everythingtogether.
We go to the community collegeand we're both working towards
getting our ADN so that we canbecome nurses at St.
Bart's up in the city.
(17:26):
We've been volunteering as candystripers and Cassie drives us
there two times a week.
They have to separate us byfloor so that the older patients
don't get confused.
Apparently name tags aren't goodenough when it comes to telling
us apart i live in a double wideat golden gables estates which
is a fancy name for a shitmobile home park i live with my
parents but with any luck notfor much longer my dad is never
(17:48):
home whatever flavor of the weekhe's into will take him anywhere
but here my mom has had to workdouble time since the day i was
born to provide for us andserves an extra helping of guilt
every time it gets brought upthe older i get the more it
seems like she can barelytolerate my existence she's
never been kind to me i'm aburden and she makes that clear
Thank you.
Jess, Cassie calls out fromacross the school courtyard,
(18:10):
walking toward me.
We meet every day before classat the fountain in the middle of
the school campus.
As she reaches me, I hand herthe usual, provolone and every
veggie under the sun on a softroll.
She's been a vegetarian sincefourth grade when we watched the
pink slime video.
We sit on the ground to eat,backs against the fountain.
Did you see that we're going tohave a segment in genealogy, I
asked, taking a huge bite of myturkey and Swiss.
(18:32):
I did.
I wonder what Professor Jenningswill do.
I think I remember him sayingthat we get to test ourselves,
maybe today we'll get swabbed.
I swallow hard, excited to getwords out.
What if?
What if our dreams are real?
She cuts me off, finishing mythought and grinning ear to ear.
Yes! Or what if we find outsomething insane?
(18:53):
Like Carl screwed your mom, Iask, and take a sip of my
Snapple.
Then I hope your dad was worthit, because my dad would flip.
Cassie's not kidding.
We've seen Mike on a jealousstreak.
Once, he thought that the swimcoach was flirting with Cassie,
and we all watched while hepushed Coach Peters into the
water.
It was hilarious.
True, I shrug.
What are you doing tonight?
(19:13):
She asks.
I was thinking of going to pickup an app Oh, smart.
Maybe try the ice cream shopnext door too?
I think I saw a sign in theirwindow.
Cassie glances at her watch andthen points to it before
(19:34):
wrapping up the rest of hersandwich and tucking it into her
bag.
Oh, it's time?
That felt fast.
I wrap up my sandwich and westand, dusting crumbs from our
laps.
In class, we did in fact swabour cheeks and discuss the
markers that tell us what makesup our genealogy.
Each of us would receivecomprehensive reports within
three weeks and then do aproject with our results.
The three weeks wereexcruciating, but time went
faster after I got the job atthe ice cream shop.
(19:56):
It paid$16 an hour and I couldwork as many hours as I wanted.
The literal mom and pops shopwas owned by the cutest old
couple I'd ever seen, and theirgrandson, Frank Jr., was the
only other person who manned thecounter.
He was cute, 22, and superflirty.
I lived for the hours we workedtogether, and I know it wasn't
just the freezer that gave mechills when we scooped Rocky
(20:18):
Road side by side.
Today, I'm working in the shop,but Frank Jr.
isn't in the store, so I'm boredout of my mind.
I go to the back and grab my bagto pull out my computer.
It was Cassie's old laptop thatshe gave to me once her parents
upgraded hers for this I need atriple scoop of moose tracks,
stat! Her voice entered the roombefore the little door chime had
(20:38):
a chance to ring.
Hey, Cass! I didn't need tolook.
I knew her voice.
One sec.
I came to hang.
I've got nothing going on.
She yells out at the greaterroom, waiting for me to come
back and taking a seat at ahigh-top table.
I come around the counter, andshe eyes me up and down.
Cute apron.
Hey, I like it.
It's cute.
I look down at my polka dotapron and then push her...
(20:59):
on the shoulder for making fun.
I was about to check my email.
I think we're going to get ourresults back soon.
Did you already register withthe site and fill out the
surveys it wanted us to take?
I pull out the stool next to herand flip open the screen.
I did.
It asked a million questions.
She looks around observing theroom.
It's so quiet in here.
It is.
I hope Frankie comes by soon.
(21:20):
I want you to meet him.
Ooh, Frankie.
She pokes me on the boob.
Shut up.
I smack her hand away and feelmy face burst into flames.
Oh my God, Jess, you're in love.
Cassie screams and it fuels thefire in my cheeks.
Just then the bell chimes and weboth swivel to see him walking
through the door.
I freeze and I swear to God, myheart fell into my butt.
(21:41):
Jess?
Frank Jr.
looks right at Cassie.
No, I'm Cassie.
Nice to meet you.
Cassie bounds towards him, holdsout her hand to shake it.
Whoa, there's two of you?
If he was auditioning for a roleas dumb surfer number three in
the next big summer flick, he'dhave gotten the part.
Sort of.
We get that all the time.
Jess has told me all about you.
Are you working today?
I am.
After school rush is going tohit in the next hour or so.
(22:03):
He points up to the clock andthen looks into my eyes, even
though he's still talking toCassie.
I came in early to hang out withJess.
I smile and resist the urge totouch my face to feel if it's on
fire, and after a moment finallyget the nerve to speak.
Um, I'm just gonna look atsomething for school if that's
okay?
He shrugs.
I'm not your boss.
Whatevs.
I gotta grab my apron.
(22:23):
My heart melts as he heads tothe back.
Jesus, girl, get it together.
Cassie sidles up next to me,whispering in my ear and looking
over my shoulder as my emailloads.
I know, I know.
I just forgot he was working.
Oh, my God.
I grin at her, and she grinsback.
We silently do a little danceand then turn back to the
computer.
Sure enough, the email is herewith the genealogy report.
(22:46):
I log into the site, and Cassiewatches as I click through all
the facts about myself.
I have the gene for cilantrotasting like soap.
Duh.
Curly hair gene?
Duh.
Hey, I'm like 40% Norwegian.
That's cool, I guess.
I say facetiously.
Look at that little icon.
I think that's the relativeicon.
She points to the corner of myscreen where it shows two little
(23:07):
heads next to each other.
I click on it and a pop-upcenters on my screen.
You have one close relativeregistered on this site.
Click this button to givepermission for them to see your
information.
How cool.
I clicked it immediately.
I wonder who it is.
I wonder how close a relative.
Let me sign into mine.
Cassie bumps me out of the waywith her hip and promptly signs
(23:27):
me out.
Frank Jr.
comes back into the room just asthe door chimes.
Two kids and what looks liketheir grandma come into the
shop.
I got it.
Frank waves at me to keep doingwhat I'm doing.
I smile at him and mouth, thankyou.
He smiles back, and my heartturns to mush.
"'Look, I have the icon, too,'Cassie clicks in.
"'You have a close relativeregistered to this site.
(23:47):
Give permission to allow them tosee your information,' she
reads.
But before she clicks, she looksat me, and we are wide-eyed.
"'Click it! What the fuck,Cassie?
Click it!' I'm jumping out of myskin.
"'Hey-o,' Frank says loudly,reminding us that there are
customers in the store.' I turnaround and see the woman shaking
her head in disapproval, and sheclicks her tongue at me.
(24:08):
I'm so sorry.
We're just so excited.
I don't know what else to sayother than the truth.
And you get free sprinkles too,Frank chimes, calling her
attention back in his directionwhile scooping sprinkles onto
the kids' cones.
I turn back to the computer asCassie clicks the icon.
Immediately, my face and myinformation pop up on the
screen.
The computer reads, you have a99.9 chance of being close
(24:32):
siblings with Jessica Brighton,sharing 2,750 centimorgans of
DNA.
Cassie and I are stunned intosilence.
We haven't said a word for overa minute.
The woman and the kids walk outof the store and Frank walks
over to join us.
So what's it say?
He asks innocently.
That we're related, I sayslowly.
(24:53):
Like 99.9%.
That's practically 100%.
We're like sister level related.
Jess, how?
I don't get it.
How?
I mean, we've joked about thisfor years, but neither of our
parents have said anything.
And it's not like we're 50%related.
That means it's not just oneparent.
It's both parents.
(25:14):
No wonder you look so muchalike.
What if your twins separated atbirth?
Frank jokes.
We look at each other.
I was born in October and shewas born in April.
You've seen your birthcertificate, right?
I ask.
I hadn't questioned it whenCynthia told me she had just
lost mine.
I don't think I have, actually.
I mean, I guess I have, but Inever really looked at it.
(25:34):
Cassie's already pulling up hermom's number and calling.
Mom! Kathy didn't even have achance to say hello before
Cassie started in.
We just got our genealogyreports back, and I'm 100%
sisters with Jess, and what thefuck, Mom?
What the fuck?
I can hear the sigh through thephone, and then, oh no.
A few more deep breaths areaudible as Cassie puts it into
(25:54):
speaker.
Mom! Okay, girls, you are withJess right now, right?
I'm here, Kathy, I say.
Okay, girls, can you come here?
I can make us something to eatand we can talk.
Yes, we say at the same time andCassie hangs up.
You can go, I'm good.
Frank squeezes my shoulder.
Are you okay?
Is this a bad thing?
Well, I guess our parents havebeen lying to us our whole
(26:15):
lives, like all four of them.
I don't get it.
I rub my temples and take off myapron, handing it to Frank.
Thank you, Frankie.
"'No problem, Jess.
Come back later if you want.' Hedips his head down to find my
eyes, and I wail with tears.
Trying to blink them away, onefalls, and he touches my cheek
to wipe it away.
(26:35):
"'Thanks,' I say quietly andsmile.
Cassie has my bag in her hand,and we walk out of the shop.
Her car is right out front, andbefore I fully shut the door,
she peels out and we speedtowards her house.
Not even ten minutes later, wescrape into the driveway and
find that it's not just Cassie'sRange Rover in the driveway, but
Mike's Jag, too.' He must haveraced home for this.
He's normally at his office.
(26:57):
We storm into the house and findthem talking quietly at the
dining room table.
Kathy had put out salami andcheese.
Did this seem like a charcuteriemoment to her?
What the fuck?
Cassie lays in, no holds barred.
Okay, shit.
She exhales, trying to calmherself.
Girls, please sit.
This isn't what we wanted.
(27:17):
She looks at Mike, but he won'tlook up from the table at any of
us.
We sat as instructed.
You two are sisters.
In unison, we take a sharpintake of breath.
You're fraternal twins.
We had a birth certificateforged for you, Cassie.
Jess, oh God, Jess, Cassie, Ijust don't even know how to say
this.
Kathy holds her head in herhands and then looks up at Mike,
(27:38):
who is still one notch abovecomatose.
Hey, I could at least use yourhand here, Mike.
She nudges him, and he looks upand then takes her hand, giving
it a squeeze before looking backdown.
We bought you, Cassie.
Kathy chokes on her words,desperate to hold back tears.
Jess, Cassie, girls, Cynthia wasnot in great shape when you two
(27:58):
were born.
She needed money.
Your dad, both of your dad,shit, Carl.
Carl was gambling so much andCynthia was desperate.
She didn't want to sell both ofyou.
She threatened that if we evertold either of you or the
authorities, she'd take you bothso far away that we'd never find
you.
The entire thing was illegal.
It's just, we couldn't have ourown...
(28:20):
And Kathy trails off into sobs.
We had no choice but to keep itfrom you.
Mike finally spoke and made eyecontact with each of us.
She made it clear that if wemade one wrong move, we wouldn't
see either of you ever again.
But we couldn't bear to moveaway and not see you, Jess.
We wanted you in our lives, evenif it was just in this way.
We knew Cynthia would never beable to move.
(28:42):
She'd gotten herself into such ahole.
We had the upper hand on thatone, Kathy adds.
They did.
They had all the money and theresources in the world.
I had to swallow my resentment.
I was the one who lived in afucking double-wide while they
had luxury cars and a swimmingpool.
My thoughts raced as Iconsidered all the times Kathy
fed me, knowing Cynthia didn'tstock our refrigerator.
(29:04):
What I thought were slumberparties were actually their way
of keeping me, even if it wasjust for the weekend.
My life...
My life has been so horriblewith them, I start.
Kathy cuts me off.
There are so many times we wantto just take you and move away,
Jess.
So many times.
Every time we were out andpeople commented on how much you
looked alike, it was like aknife to our hearts.
(29:25):
We offered her as much as wecould afford to take you both.
We wanted you both.
She trailed off again.
I hate her.
I hate her.
I hate them, I scream, not atanyone in particular.
I was so filled with rage.
Why had I been the one she kept?
You're an adult now.
We can forgive them.
We can move on.
We didn't tell you.
You found out on your own, andyou're 18.
(29:46):
She can't do anything to us now.
Kathy sounds so relieved.
She's lived with this burden forso long.
You can forgive them all youwant, I say, and stand.
I always wanted to be yours.
I wanted to be in your family.
The only good parts of my lifehave been with you, and now I
find out that I could have been,that you wanted me, and she
threatened you?
I leave my bag and walk towardthe front door.
(30:09):
Want me to come?
Kathy calls out.
No.
The less people, the better.
I leave through the front doorand formulate my plan while I
run.
The trailer park is about threemiles away as the crow flies,
and I have a well-trodden paththrough a wooded preserve we
created when we were kids.
I am sure that I'm the only onethat uses it, as I often would
(30:29):
leave cairns right in the middleof the trail, which are still
there, and I kick them over as Ipass.
I arrive at Golden Gables andcircle the perimeter.
If I don't go through the frontno one will ever know I'm here.
Our trailer is the last one inthe back corner of the lot and I
had cut a hole in the fencingwhen I was 13 for quick escapes.
I could see my mom wasn't home.
(30:50):
Her old Honda Civic wasn'tparked on the grass outside.
I go inside and pull out a fewbelongings I cared about, my
school books, a few clothes thatI loved, a locket Kathy had
given me, and a small teddy bearthat Mike and Cassie brought to
me in the hospital when I had myappendix out.
I put all of my items in mybackpack and walked into the
kitchen.
As though I needed to give thisplace one last chance to
(31:12):
disappoint me, I looked in thecabinets and find them barren,
laughing as I think about howperfect that is.
Barren is exactly what thisplace, this life with them,
Always was.
I turn towards the stove,blowing out the pilot lights
before turning on every burner.
I grab a pack of matches andleave the house.
There was a small wood pile infront where Cynthia usually
(31:32):
parks, and I take an armful ofsticks to use as kindling.
I head to the back corner of thetrailer, where I know I'm
invisible, make a little pile ofsticks, and ignite it.
This corner is at least 20 feetfrom where the stove is, so I
hope I have a minute to get outof Dodge.
I take off the same way I came,formulating my plan as I run.
I'll go back to work now.
There's no official clock-in orclock-out system, and I'm sure
(31:55):
there's no cameras.
Hopefully, the after-school rushwas busy enough that Frank won't
have noticed much time haspassed.
Clearly, Kathy and Mike aren'tabove fudging the truth, and I
honestly don't think they'lleven ask, mostly because they
don't want to know.
The best part is that Cynthia'sreputation around town speaks
for itself.
No one will believe for a secondthat she didn't do this to
(32:15):
herself to collect insurance.
She's a fraud through andthrough.
Always has been.
I'm safely in the woods by thetime I hear the fire take off
with a small explosion.
Two minutes later, I hear sirensheading that direction.
Walking in the door, the chimesounds.
"'Hey!' Frank Jr.
looks up and smiles.
"'Thanks for letting me take abreak.' I walk to his station,
(32:36):
pick up my apron that he hadleft on the counter.
He knew I'd be back.
No problem, he leans in.
You good?
I'm great.
I scoop myself a cup of doublefudge ripple and grab one of the
tiny tasting spoons.
I take a bite and then scoopanother tiny spoonful and hold
it up to Frank.
He flirtatiously takes it in hismouth and I lean in to kiss his
lips.
(32:57):
Yummy, I smile at him.
I think this may be the best dayof my life.
SPEAKER_01 (33:05):
That's awesome.
I hope I didn't put everyone tosleep.
No.
No, of course not.
I mean, she burns down her mom'strailer.
I mean, she's just like, fuckit.
She's like,
SPEAKER_02 (33:20):
fuck you now.
Bye.
I've never written from ateenager's perspective, so that
was kind of fun.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I love it.
On the back of...
My paper here, it wasdistracting me because I could
see through it.
And I had written, my biggestmistake is always, I'll remember
(33:41):
to tell her that.
What does that mean?
It means that I always have somany things I want to talk to
you about, but then I don'twrite them down.
Oh my gosh,
SPEAKER_01 (33:51):
that's so
SPEAKER_02 (33:51):
cute.
SPEAKER_01 (33:52):
Maybe
SPEAKER_02 (33:52):
that should be a prompt.
SPEAKER_01 (33:52):
But then what's this scribble?
Is that the thing you wanted totell me?
No.
I don't know what that is.
My biggest mistake is alwaysunderscore underscore.
I'll remember to tell her that.
Oh, you're so cute.
Okay.
Okay.
So we have something.
(34:14):
This is so exciting to me thatthis person actually called our
number and recorded her poem.
I think it's a poem.
She's a poet.
Oh, I was asking you about herpronouns.
Oh, actually, I haven't listenedto it yet.
Oh, so you don't know how theyintroduce themselves?
I don't know how they introducethemselves.
(34:34):
Okay, so we don't know.
Yeah.
SPEAKER_02 (34:36):
But
SPEAKER_01 (34:36):
you
SPEAKER_02 (34:36):
know them, right, from school?
I do know this person fromschool, and I feel like we
should cut everything aboutpronouns.
SPEAKER_01 (34:44):
Oh, okay,
SPEAKER_02 (34:45):
sure.
SPEAKER_01 (34:50):
It's too awkward?
Yeah.
You can say stuff that I cut.
Okay, so she's a girl.
She's obviously a girl.
Well, you've called her they afew times.
Yeah, I have.
Why have I done that?
Okay.
Maybe just as a way of speakingthat was normal before.
(35:12):
With
SPEAKER_02 (35:13):
the times.
Yeah, or I don't know.
Whatever.
Fuck.
I'm so PC.
Okay.
Yes, I know this person fromschool, and I'm going to let
them introduce themselves.
Okay.
That's that.
Let her.
Okay, let me pull it up here.
Let me make sure my phone's onas well as I can go.
You're
SPEAKER_01 (35:32):
like, Taylor, she's just a girl.
Okay, sorry.
SPEAKER_00 (35:38):
Hi, my name is MJ, and I'm here to leave a little
poem for you guys.
This one is called Clouds, and Iwrote it a little while ago.
But yeah, I like when the cloudslook like a cheetah print.
As if they think the sky is asafari and they can run through
it.
I like when ripples on the pondlook like a figure eight.
(35:59):
As if they are trying to escapethe tides they make.
I like pine tree needles thatare especially sharp.
As if they want to poke you fordaring to look at them.
I like when ribbons don't tieproperly.
As if they don't want to knot orget too caught up.
I like when bushes are tallerthan me, because at that point
they're basically just trees.
I like when people are beautifulonce you get to know them,
(36:19):
because beauty is something youhave to discover.
I like when boys wear skirts andgirls wear pants.
I think it anatomically justmakes more sense.
I like when the hero dies andthe villain wins just because
it's a rare occurrence.
I like roller coasters that makeyou think you're going to die
because it's the only timescreaming like that is socially
acceptable.
I like when clouds look like apainting.
(36:42):
They think they're just so muchmore artistic than the rest of
us.
I like when blue is mixed withred so it makes purple.
Purple is just so much prettierthan blue.
I like when people speak outabout things that most stay
silent on.
It just makes you a good person,I think.
I like unraveling thepresident's lies like a loose
thread in a sweater.
(37:02):
It helps me sleep better atnight.
I like clouds that are gray andheavy because I can relate.
Aw,
SPEAKER_01 (37:13):
I loved that.
Oh my gosh.
Wow, thank you so much, MJ.
Seriously, I love that poem.
I love the part about the cloudslooking like a cheetah print.
And I love the part aboutenjoying unraveling the
president's lies.
SPEAKER_02 (37:32):
Yeah.
Fucker's a liar.
No kings.
No kings.
No kings.
Yeah, no kings.
I like when bushes are taller.
That's so sweet.
Is she short?
I don't know.
I don't think she's...
I mean, like my height, I don'tthink I'm particularly...
I'm like very average.
(37:52):
How tall are you?
I'm 5'5".
Okay.
Yeah.
That's not too bad.
Yeah.
I feel like average.
I think MJ's average height.
Okay.
Okay.
So MJ is in my class and is awonderful poet.
Oh, yeah.
And I have heard her...
read her poetry before and it'sfantastic.
(38:15):
And she has actually given mepermission to share some other
stuff, which I'll do in thefuture because her stuff is
fantastic and worth listeningto.
And if you ever have a chance toread it when she's most
definitely going to bepublished, you should do it.
SPEAKER_01 (38:32):
Yes.
So do you think that when she'spublished, she's going to go by
MJ?
I
SPEAKER_02 (38:38):
believe that's the plan.
SPEAKER_01 (38:39):
Yeah.
Yeah.
Okay, cool.
Well, thank you so much, MJ.
I'm going to listen to thatagain a couple of times.
And I like the way that youdelivered it with so much
passion.
So I'm looking forward tohearing the next poem about Elon
Musk.
SPEAKER_02 (38:54):
Oh, yes.
Her poem about Elon is...
Badass.
SPEAKER_01 (38:58):
Okay, so we're going to put that in another story
time
SPEAKER_02 (39:00):
episode.
Yes, that definitely needs to goup.
Okay, so I'm going to just throwsomething at you guys.
The flamingo poem.
SPEAKER_01 (39:06):
Yeah.
It's happening.
I'm a little embarrassed.
We talked about this in episodetwo where we were talking about
how Rachel doesn't like poetryjust because she thinks that
it's too vulnerable.
I'm
SPEAKER_02 (39:21):
coming around, though.
I'm coming around with a friendlike MJ.
Oh, my God.
I mean, she's, like, fantastic,so I
SPEAKER_01 (39:29):
have to.
And, I mean, a poem like MJ's,Clouds, it doesn't feel, I don't
know, it's interesting and funto listen to and pick up on all
the ideas and But it's not thekind of thing where you feel
like she's scraping your heartout of your vagina or something.
(39:52):
Sure, sure, sure.
In the way that you said thatyou don't like how it's so
vulnerable.
Although
SPEAKER_02 (39:57):
she did read one poem in class once that was like
very vulnerable.
And it was also incredible.
And that was, I think, one ofthe first ones that got read in
class.
SPEAKER_01 (40:08):
Oh, wow.
She did a really vulnerable oneright from the top.
Right out the gate.
And it
SPEAKER_02 (40:12):
was really incredible reading.
And I remember thinking, likesitting there, she was across
the room from me and thinkinglike, if she can do that, then,
like, I'm just a huge fuckingpussy if I can't read.
Like, that was amazing.
And get your head out of yourass, girl.
(40:32):
You know, to me, to myself.
SPEAKER_01 (40:33):
Oh, right,
SPEAKER_02 (40:34):
right.
Yeah.
SPEAKER_01 (40:34):
So then you wrote this thing about the flamingo.
SPEAKER_02 (40:38):
And then I torched it up and wrote this flamingo
poem.
And here we go.
Are you ready?
Mm-hmm.
Oh, they're going to be sick ofhearing me.
Okay.
I've called it The Fierce andFlamboyance.
Because as you know, a group offlamingos is called a
flamboyance.
SPEAKER_01 (40:56):
As it should
SPEAKER_02 (40:56):
be.
Yes.
We watch them at the zoo, endurethe stench of the enclosure.
I read the information about howthese creatures exist in the
world.
My daughter grabs at my body,climbing me to get higher,
higher, higher.
She wants to look over the railand absorb the deep magenta and
the feminine elegance that shebelieves is just out of reach.
(41:18):
Those legs, like toothpicks.
Strange, backward, knobby knees.
No, they're ankles.
Deceiving and odd.
Why do they sleep like that,Mama?
On just one leg?
To regulate temperature.
To stay balanced.
To quicken their movements.
They watch us, just as we watchthem.
Mouths agape and ready to flee.
(41:40):
that neck slender and sleek thelength of which seems
superfluous at best 19 elongatedvertebrae inside all i can see
is this plague mask used forreaping small creatures from the
muck this delicate bodyilluminated against the scenery
a flamboyant highlighter amongstmud and grass Each pink shrimp
(42:03):
consumed enhances itsbrilliance, a killer wearing its
prey, flaunting it with a brightand exquisite persona.
The brighter the bird, the moreaggressive.
I see that deep black under eachwing, the strongest feathers,
the ones only shown whenprovoked, hidden strength and
unpredictability.
Not foul, but phonic.
(42:25):
I never thought I'd have to saythis word out loud.
Oh, no.
Not foul, but phonic.
I don't know how to say that forreal.
Please don't even cut that part.
I feel like it's important.
Not foul, but...
Foul, nonetheless.
(42:46):
Okay, okay.
Let me read that last bit again.
Hidden strength inunpredictability.
Not foul, but...
Foul, nonetheless.
I squeeze her tighter, my sweetsmall girl.
She reaches for these creatures,a moth to a hot pink flame.
One small move in our directionand I would kick out those
(43:07):
stupid legs and break that longneck, push away its thick,
strong beak, rip off eachridiculous limb one by one.
What wouldn't I do to protecther?
SPEAKER_01 (43:19):
Oh, my gosh.
Oh, shit.
I wasn't recording.
No, no.
I mean, we were recording onhere.
That was it.
That was good.
Oh, thanks.
Yeah.
Did you go to like...
Okay.
What am I trying to ask?
(43:39):
I'm trying to ask if like...
You went to the zoo and took apicture of the sign or
something?
Because you know a lot of stuffabout the flamingos.
Or did you sort of do a littleresearch for your poem?
I did a little research for thepoem.
SPEAKER_02 (43:51):
Yeah, so the assignment in class, this was
one of our assignments, was tomake a poem about an animal.
And it could not be a pet.
It had to be like a...
some animal out there in theworld.
And I chose a flamingo.
And my professor actually madejokes that he was like, oh, you
know, like Miami, you know, palmleaves, flamingos, it's going to
(44:11):
be great.
And I remember thinking tomyself, just you wait.
Just you wait.
SPEAKER_01 (44:18):
Yes.
SPEAKER_02 (44:19):
Okay.
Okay.
So enough of storytelling.
SPEAKER_01 (44:23):
Storytime.
Yeah.
That was another storytimeepisode.
And we'll sign off here in asec.
But I have something that I wantto discuss with you, Rachel.
Okay.
I forwarded you a newsletter.
Did you have a chance to readit?
Oh my God, no.
Oh my God, you didn't read it?
I think I did.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
It was the Chuck Palahniuk one.
Well, I feel like I did.
(44:43):
Okay, it's okay because I'mgoing to explain it to you and
to the people who are listening.
Okay.
We need like a name for thepeople listening, like how
singers have...
Stupid names for all their fans,like Bully Burs and Little
Monsters and stuff.
Hardys?
Hardys?
Aww.
(45:06):
Little Hardys.
Are they going to like that?
I don't know.
Okay, Hardys.
Call in and let us know what youthink.
Yeah, maybe.
I heard that Taylor Swift, notto bring Taylor Swift up on the
podcast for the third time, butI heard that her fans named
themselves Hardys.
I think that everybody else'sfans, it's like there's a
(45:27):
marketing team that comes upwith it.
But her fans, they were thefirst ones to do it.
What are they called?
Oh, Swifties.
Well, good for them.
Okay, Hardys.
So do you guys know ChuckPalahniuk?
He was the author of Fight Cluband 19 other novels.
Oh, yeah.
I remember this now.
SPEAKER_02 (45:47):
Oh, yeah.
Did you read Fight Club or anyof his books?
I haven't.
No.
Okay.
But I've listened to interviewswith him and I like him.
SPEAKER_01 (45:54):
Oh, you have?
Oh, great.
Okay, cool.
Yeah.
Okay.
So his newsletter is called PlotTwist.
And he fucking, I wrote all thisout so that I could say this on
here.
One sec.
Okay.
Okay.
I'm just going to clap.
(46:15):
So Chuck Palahniuk, he has anewsletter called Plot Twists
that I subscribe to and I readit sometimes.
It's awesome.
It's a really great resource.
And I didn't read Fight Club,but I loved the film.
And I read another book of hiscalled Snuff when I was a
teenager, and it was so dark andcrazy.
It is about snuff, like films.
(46:38):
Yeah.
And, um, yeah, that was reallygood, but I'd like to read more
of his work and I like hisnewsletter.
So anyways, on June 17th, he hadan issue of the newsletter
called a cheater's thrill.
And basically he's givingwriting advice and he was
talking about, um, how if youwrite when you're not supposed
to write, it can give you like alittle thrill and it can bring
(47:01):
that thrill into your writing.
Like, um, A prisoner in a gulagwriting on toilet paper or
something.
Oh, okay.
Yeah, I really hacked that,Kayla.
So in the middle section of thisnewsletter, he talks about
writing about your secrets.
(47:22):
Ooh.
And he gives examples from likea lot of famous people who wrote
works but then never confirmedif it was like true or what it
was based on so like um shirleyjackson's short story the
lottery have you read that one ihave oh you have yeah okay so so
(47:43):
like shirley jackson's thelottery which was a bit of a
precursor like to the hungergames um a lot of people thought
yeah totally right a lot ofpeople thought that her story
where townspeople are sort ofchosen to be brutally murdered,
that it was based on the draftfor the war.
(48:03):
But she never confirmed ordenied it.
Basically, what Chuck was sayingin this email was like, you
should you should write yoursecrets.
And there was one.
Oh, there was another example.
So Stephen King, he has a storycalled The Body, which And it's
believed to be about a childhoodevent where King went to play
(48:28):
with a close friend.
And when he came home, he waslike stunned.
And the friend was later foundto have been killed by a train
on the railroad tracks nearby.
And so whether or not StephenKing saw his friend killed or
whatever, decades later, hewrote about the experience.
He never confirmed or deniedthat.
(48:51):
So that's pretty sweet.
And so I thought it might bereally fun.
Okay, so here's the second partof this.
Chuck Palahniuk has astorytelling night.
SPEAKER_02 (49:04):
Didn't Stephen King write Stand By Me, which is
about the group of kids who findthe body on the train tracks?
SPEAKER_01 (49:10):
Oh, maybe Stand By Me was based on the story The
Body.
Yeah.
Is Stand By Me a book too?
SPEAKER_02 (49:17):
Yeah, it was a book written by Stephen King that got
made into that movie.
SPEAKER_01 (49:21):
That's so crazy that he went out and played with his
friends.
And then when he came back, hewas all like fucked up.
And then they found the frienddead on the train tracks.
Stephen.
Poor Stephen King.
Poor guy.
Yeah, I don't know if Chuck hasconfirmed this.
Or maybe he said this in aninterview.
But with Fight Club, it saidthat he was on a camping trip.
(49:45):
And he went over to anotherplace.
campsite nearby and he wastelling them to keep it down um
keep down the noise on theirradio and they beat him up like
those people and then when hereturned to work he was like
really struck by how nobodywould mention or acknowledge his
injuries and they would justlike he was all fucked up from
(50:09):
getting his ass kicked andpeople were just like oh how was
your weekend you know like Youknow, if you see somebody has
like a shiner and like a cut lipor whatever, like do you go,
hey, what happened?
I feel like I would, but maybeit's not really, maybe not a lot
of people would.
SPEAKER_02 (50:25):
Yesterday I was sitting in a cafe writing for
like a few hours and my server,I think she had a black eye and
it really bummed me out.
And I was looking at it and itwas like really bummed me out
while I was sitting there, but Ididn't say anything.
SPEAKER_01 (50:38):
Yeah.
I mean, to your server, yeah.
Right?
Like, if it was...
Oh, like a
SPEAKER_02 (50:43):
co-worker?
Like, if you came here today andyou had a shiner, I definitely
would say something.
SPEAKER_01 (50:47):
Yes.
Yeah.
Or a co-worker.
Like, but I guess...
I don't know.
Normies are so restrained.
SPEAKER_02 (50:56):
Normies.
Okay.
SPEAKER_01 (51:00):
Okay.
So what's our assignment here?
What
SPEAKER_02 (51:01):
are we doing?
What's Chuck got in store for
SPEAKER_01 (51:04):
us?
All right.
So he has this thing, this nightin Portland that's called the
slush pile.
I don't know when the next oneis or how to figure that out,
but I know that one of them wason a Wednesday night.
And they're from like 6.30 to9.30 at this bar or restaurant
(51:24):
or something.
And I was thinking we could bothwrite a story about our secrets.
Like a story about somethingthat we would never want anyone
to know that we thought or feltor did or wanted.
Let someone do to us.
And then we go to Oregon.
(51:45):
Just go to
SPEAKER_02 (51:46):
Oregon.
SPEAKER_01 (51:46):
Yeah.
Take the show on the road.
Yes.
Take the show on the road.
We get in our vehicle.
We do a road trip or we take anice flight.
Great.
First class, baby.
Yeah.
First class to Chuck.
The first class all the way toChucky.
And we read our thing in frontof strangers.
And...
Never confirm or deny.
(52:07):
Never confirm or deny.
And only we know each other'sdeepest, darkest secret, and
then we can hold it over eachother's heads for the rest of
our lives.
SPEAKER_02 (52:15):
Oh, wow.
That's a really fun idea.
Don't you think?
I don't think Portland's thatfar from here.
It's really not.
I mean, like, it's the same asflying to San Diego
distance-wise, I think.
SPEAKER_01 (52:26):
Yeah.
So we could let Chuck know thatwe're coming, too.
We could be like, we have thispodcast, and we're going to come
and do
SPEAKER_02 (52:32):
our thing.
UNKNOWN (52:32):
I don't know, Chuck.
SPEAKER_01 (52:34):
Hey, we're coming.
UNKNOWN (52:35):
But...
SPEAKER_01 (52:36):
As far as posting the stories on the podcast, I
think Probably not.
Well, obviously not.
If we do the assignment.
Definitely not wanting to sharemy deepest, darkest secrets.
Unless we put it behind apaywall or something.
Oh, look at you.
You're ready to share.
Probably not.
I don't know.
I don't even know what my secretis going to be.
I know I have some, but I'llhave to really dig.
(52:57):
Or maybe we'll just throw theminto
SPEAKER_02 (52:58):
a
SPEAKER_01 (52:59):
story time someday and never acknowledge that it
was
SPEAKER_02 (53:00):
the actual secret one.
Oh my gosh, that is such a goodidea.
Diabolical.
SPEAKER_01 (53:05):
Okay, so one day they will pop up in our story
times, but- you'll never knowthat it was real i'm into it
wowie zowie this is getting sodeep so dark so good okay so
that's i i think that's like ourhomework i think okay
SPEAKER_02 (53:23):
deep dark secrets on the paper um okay well i do have
to say that while i that isdefinitely fun i can She doesn't
want to go.
No, I definitely want to go.
I definitely do.
So I'm now at like 48,000 wordson my dinner for eight.
(53:46):
Wow, that's so much.
I'm trying to figure out how toend this puppy.
SPEAKER_01 (53:50):
You don't want to work on something else right
SPEAKER_02 (53:55):
now.
I'm a little nervous to work
SPEAKER_01 (53:57):
on something else right now.
It doesn't have to be right nowat all.
It can be in September orsomething.
Okay.
You know, maybe once your firstdraft is done.
Yeah, right, right.
Or maybe you'll need a breakfrom working on that.
I think it
SPEAKER_02 (54:10):
will be good for me to, once I finish a draft, pause
and step away and then come backto it.
SPEAKER_01 (54:17):
That's like the advice that Stephen King
actually gives in his book onwriting.
Yeah.
He says, put it in a drawer.
And he says, the longer you canstay away from it, the better.
For me, I always felt like, oh,I have to get it done because I
have to get it published and Ihave to blah, blah, blah.
But- Now I've realized it takesso long to get something
published anyways.
You might as well just take thetime you need.
(54:39):
Oh, yeah, for sure.
Do the best you can
SPEAKER_02 (54:40):
do.
Quality over
SPEAKER_01 (54:42):
quantity or speed or whatever.
So one day we may go to Portlandand do this once Rachel has
the...
Creative energy and the time tobreak down her deepest darkest
secret.
I feel like it's a great goal to
SPEAKER_02 (54:54):
have by the end of the year.
And I love this.
And I love that Chuck is doingthat.
Yeah.
SPEAKER_01 (54:59):
Very fun.
Yeah.
He just lets people get up andread their stories and he like
attends and yeah.
Cool.
He seems really awesome.
I want to meet Chuck.
I mean, his social commentary isfantastic.
He's fantastic.
He's fantastic.
We love you, Chuck.
Yeah.
Okay, so that was story time.
We hope that you enjoyed ourstories and we'll be back at you
(55:21):
next Wednesday.
See ya!
UNKNOWN (55:25):
Music
Write your heart out.
SPEAKER_01 (00:10):
Hey everybody.
Hi.
I'm Kayla Ogden.
And I'm Rachel Sear.
And this is Write Your HeartOut.
Here we are.
And today we're doing a storytime.
This is based on the promptsthat we chose for the Readsy
competition.
They have a competition called,I think, Prompted, where every
(00:32):
week you choose from a prompt,you submit your short story, and
then if it gets chosen to win,you win 250 bucks.
And you also maybe get publishedin their magazine.
At first, we have
SPEAKER_02 (00:44):
to remind them of what our prompts were.
SPEAKER_01 (00:46):
Yeah.
SPEAKER_02 (00:47):
Okay.
But then also, we did I didn'thave a lot of very great things
to say about Reezy in the...
SPEAKER_01 (00:53):
No.
So you would have, you thelistener, you would have just
listened to an episode where wedetail our experience with
trying to submit these storiesto Reezy.
Did either of us actually...
I didn't submit mine.
I did not submit mine.
Okay.
So you've learned, or if you goback to the last episode, you'll
learn why we didn't actually endup...
You're right.
(01:42):
I did like what I wrote.
And I like what you wrote.
I'm excited to hear it.
Okay, so my prompt that I endedup choosing in the end was, it
was a sentence that I had toinclude.
It's in here somewhere.
It's something like, I felt likeI couldn't control myself.
Oh, actually, you know what?
It's funny.
I took that out.
(02:05):
Well, once you knew you weren'tgoing to submit anymore, like,
fuck it, you know?
Yeah, but basically, I had justshoved in there the prompt, the
line.
It was as if I had no controlover myself or something like
(02:29):
that.
Oh, right, right, right.
SPEAKER_02 (02:41):
which is so awesome.
And so you'll get to hear theirvoice reading their poem.
And we haven't heard it yet.
So we'll be all hearing it forthe first time together, which
is very exciting.
SPEAKER_01 (02:53):
Yes.
And if you would like to submita short story or a poem for us
to read on the pod, you can callus at 650-260-4885.
Or you can email us at contactat writeyourheartoutpod.com.
And if we like it, we will readit on the pod.
SPEAKER_02 (03:14):
Yeah, or maybe if we, like, really hate it, we'll
read it on the pod.
Oh, yeah, maybe we'll rip yourheart
SPEAKER_01 (03:20):
out.
We could rename it Rip YourHeart Out.
Maybe
SPEAKER_02 (03:23):
there'll be a Rip Your Heart Out episode every
once in a while.
Oh, my gosh.
That'd be fun.
Yeah, if you want to
SPEAKER_01 (03:29):
submit something that you know.
UNKNOWN (03:32):
Oh, I mean, like, not for you, maybe.
SPEAKER_01 (03:34):
If you want to submit something that you know
is complete horseshit that youwrote when you were 15 and you
want us to hurt your feelings,Louis C.K.
style.
SPEAKER_02 (03:44):
Louis C.K., exactly.
We
SPEAKER_01 (03:47):
will do that for you.
But please don't hurt myfeelings about my work.
I only want to hear good thingsand critiques that are useful.
Yes.
Okay, wait.
I'm ready.
I'm ready.
All right.
This is The News by Kayla Ogden.
I had an idea last year, but Iwas drunk at the time.
(04:07):
I tapped my keyboard and createda synopsis for my sophomore book
series, which I sent to myeditor via my agent.
That synopsis, along with thewild success of my last trilogy,
landed me a new three-book deal.
Now I'd had over 11 months towrite the first draft, but the
synopsis could not be worked.
It was complete crap andbullshit.
(04:30):
I had already confessed mydisdain for the idea to my
agent.
He told me not to change itbecause the editor liked it.
My agent was a pussy, and so wasI.
I was stuck writing a storyabout a protagonist whose mother
was abducted by hisex-girlfriend.
Did I want to write from thepoint of view of a cisgendered
straight male?
Absolutely not.
I was known for my YAromanticist series with LGBTQIA
(04:55):
plus characters, who were alsomerpeople.
Dark seas, pale fins.
My readership would be pissed ifI veered too far off genre.
Maybe the hero in this newseries could be fairy royalty
with they, them pronouns?
No, that sucked too.
I tried calling my mom for thethird time that week.
(05:15):
She always had the best advice.
I left another voicemail.
There was a new man in her lifeI knew.
She must have been busy withhim.
In the vast penthouse suite,with my head on the glossy desk,
I wondered...
What if I summon the muse?
I'd never done that before, butI knew a lot of artists did.
I opened my laptop and navigatedto ChatGPT, where I asked how to
(05:36):
summon the muse.
It spat out a short prayer andseveral rituals.
Only one of the rituals wasdoable from my hotel room.
A fan had accosted me on thestreet earlier that day, and in
a fit of excitement, she gave methe gift bag she had been
carrying, which contained ablood-red artisan candle.
I signed her forearm and Iwondered if she'd skip brunch
(05:56):
altogether and go directly to atattoo parlor.
Now I silently thanked her as Ifilled the sink with cold water.
I lit the candle and waiteduntil the wax on top turned to
liquid.
As the earthy cinnamon scentfilled the air, I rewrote the
prayer ChatGPT gave me in myhead.
I am a fucking writer after all.
And whispered, Mews, I'm here.
(06:17):
I'm listening, my dear.
My ear is turned up to thenight.
Sing to me so I can write.
I poured the melted wax into thewater.
It hardened into a strange shapewhich I plucked out with my
fingers and examined.
It was supposed to be a luckytalisman.
I cocked my head as I regardedthe shape.
It looked like a sun with solarflares?
But no.
(06:38):
It looked like a head with longflowing hair all around.
It even seemed to have adelicate neck.
I gave it a peck.
on its smooth face.
I strode to my desk and placedthe tiny waxen bust beside my
computer inside.
Maybe the muse was running late.
No, I was the one running late.
I rushed to the theater indowntown San Francisco for my
(06:59):
conversation with Ursula Sargentabout the last installment of
Dark Seas, Pale Fins.
The talk went well and theaudience laughed when I dodged
questions about my upcomingrelease with self-deprecating
humor.
In the lobby, I sat behind afolding table next to a stack of
my books.
Most people approached shyly,blurting out one of five
comments I would hear from therest of the folks in line.
(07:22):
I tried very hard not to yawn.
So many of the young women therehad dyed their hair fire engine
red, imitating Envyra, theslightly crazy heroine mermaid
of the last two books.
Some wore a naturally paleconcealer and glitter on their
faces.
There had been nights like thiswhen the fans would blur into a
skin-toned line tapering offaround the corner.
(07:43):
Other nights were excitingbecause cool people were in
line.
People I'd like to be friendswith, to make art with, to make
out with.
And occasionally, there was abig fan.
This person would be at the veryfront or the very end of the
line.
The person wanted to make animpression on me.
Rule number one of being afamous author, never fuck the
big fans.
(08:04):
I had learned that the hard wayyears ago on a different trip to
San Francisco and never made thesame mistake again.
Tonight, the big fan was at theend of the line.
I could feel her nervous,unhinged energy radiating toward
me when there were still tenpeople obscuring my view.
My big fan finally had her turnand stepped up to the table with
her paperback clutched in bothof her hands like a serving
(08:26):
tray.
She wore a black sweater withthe hood pulled over her head.
And the string cinched and tiedunder her chin so that only a
circle of her pale face wasvisible.
On her legs was a floor-lengthsilky mint green skirt that
covered her toes.
I pulled the book from her grip,punched over the title page, and
said, Thanks for waiting.
Who would you like it made outto?
(08:47):
Me, she shouted.
I startled at the volume.
How do you spell your nameagain?
How many years had it been sincethat bookstore signing here in
SF?
I swallowed.
It had been four years.
I glanced up and gave her atight smile.
I met your mom, she said.
No way.
My mother lived in Texas.
I checked my watch.
(09:09):
I lifted the pen and began tosign the page.
Fuck the handwritten note.
Where did you meet her?
Getting groceries.
She didn't see me, though, shesaid, pulling loose the bow
under her chin, sweeping thehood behind her head.
Her long, shining copper hairbounced on her shoulders in
voluminous swoops.
I smelled cinnamon.
I kept my face still, eventhough I could feel my pulse in
(09:31):
my lips.
I looked down at my chest,willing it not to heave.
You didn't tell her about me?
She bit her fingertip.
Why would I tell my mother aboutyou, Esme?
Oh, I don't know.
She giggled.
I slapped the book close, pushedmy chair back and stood, gaining
the height advantage.
I handed the book back to herand said, thanks.
(09:51):
I'll see you around, okay?
Cool, bye now.
I shrugged on my Louis Vuittonbackpack and walked toward the
event organizer at the bar.
I could feel Esme's eyes on theback of my head, or maybe my
ass.
Anyway, I could tell Esme wasjust still standing there.
Queasy feeling came over me as Iturned back.
What's up?
Can we go for a drink?
She asked.
No, get home safe.
(10:12):
Can I stay with you?
I dropped my chin and looked ather through my brow.
We didn't talk on the way up tothe penthouse suite.
She stared at me in theelevator.
I pretended not to notice.
She grabbed the empty ice bucketand went straight to the
bathroom.
Was I meant to follow?
She didn't shut the door.
I followed.
She unzipped the huge blackhoodie and let it fall onto the
(10:34):
dark tiles of the opulentbathroom, revealing the rest of
the silky pale green dress.
She turned on the bath, filledthe ice bucket with cold water,
and handed it to me.
She slipped the straps off hershoulders and her chest was
suddenly bare.
Her skin was so white it almostglowed.
The dress hugged her waist,hips, and thighs, but flared at
mid-calf, covering her feet.
(10:55):
She laid herself down, rightthere on the shining black
tiles, fanning her hair out allaround her head.
Slowly, I poured the water onher.
She gasped as goosebumps coveredher body and her red nipples
stiffened.
I straddled her and drank thewater from every place it
pooled.
I wanted to die in the shower.
This might have been the worstmistake I ever made.
(11:15):
I prayed that she'd be gone whenI got out.
I cinched the robe around mywaist and found her at the desk,
fidgeting with my little waxtalisman.
I gazed at the back of her head.
She had dried her hair, and inthe lamplight, it was the color
of fox fur.
I thought of foxes, sexy foxes,fox people, hot young adults
with tails who lived inintricate underground homes, a
(11:37):
headstrong fox girl.
She wants to sleep under the skywith a sexual werewolf, a story,
a series.
She turned to me.
"'Your mama's so funny, youknow?' I cleared my throat.
"'Okay, how did you evenrecognize her?' At the grocery
store, you said?
She grinned.
I walked toward her.
Esme, listen.
I know you think you're Envira,that I based her on you, but
(12:00):
even if it were true, it doesn'tmean I owe you money.
She narrowed her eyes.
She went with you to the MorrisAward ceremony.
What?
Who?
Your mom.
I saw a photo of you with her atthe ceremony.
That's how I recognized her.
At the grocery store, silly.
I knew the photo.
It had been printed in anout-and-about section of a
lesser-known Chicago newspaper afew years ago.
(12:22):
It was a two-page spread withscrapbook-style photos of minor
celebrities, local governmentofficials, at holiday events,
banquets, and the like.
My mom had tried to play itcool, but I saw three copies of
that paper in her suitcasebefore she flew home.
I glanced around the room, forwhat I didn't know.
It felt tighter in here than ithad before.
I said, whatever, hey, I have asuper early morning.
5 a.m.
(12:43):
flight, can you believe that?
No.
Can I call you an Uber?
I'll stay up and wait with youuntil it gets here.
The Uber was five minutes away.
I threw on some sweats, pulledon my boots, and led Esme down
the hall to the elevator.
I yawned for effect and staredat the Uber app on my phone,
which wouldn't work in theelevator anyway.
We stood on the sidewalk insilence for a minute, watching a
small fleet of scooters speed byon the street.
(13:06):
Then Esme said, oh, right,that's what I wanted to tell
you.
Your mom didn't see me at first,so I went up to her.
Anyway, she ended up coming backto the place that I was staying,
and guess what?
I blinked.
I turned squarely to face her.
What?
I winded in my stance, crossedmy arms over my chest, lifted my
chin.
Try me.
Fuck around and find out.
(13:26):
A car pulled up to the curb.
Is this it?
She asked casually.
I checked the license plateagainst her order on the app and
opened the back door for her.
She climbed in and I shut thedoor, eager to call my mom to
get to the bottom of this.
Her window rolled down and shesaid, I think she really likes
it there.
She has the basement all toherself, and no one ever goes
(13:46):
down there.
I'll give her phone back to herwhen I get home, and you can
talk to her, I promise.
She must be so bored down theresince I've been away.
Anyways, I hope you'llreconsider the money.
Muses really should be paid,don't you think?
I stood, shaking my head as hercar pulled away.
Without thinking, I stepped ontothe street, eyes on my screen
that would track her ride.
(14:07):
A cyclist swerved around me,cursing at the top of his lungs.
I stumbled back onto the curb,dropping my phone in the
process.
It slipped clean through themetal grate of the gutter,
straight between the slots, likea slice of bread in a toaster.
I fell to my hands and kneesabove the sewer and screamed
into the darkness as the putridscent of cinnamon.
wafted up into my face.
SPEAKER_02 (14:29):
Ooh, baby.
I haven't heard it, or I readit, obviously, back when we did
the Readsie thing, but I haven'theard it since, and I love the
edits.
Oh, yeah.
SPEAKER_01 (14:41):
Rachel helped me with the edits.
Actually, I really, really likedwhat you suggested.
Oh, good.
There's a whole line that isRachel's, which is the watching
a small fleet of scooters gopast.
I'm like, that is So SanFrancisco as well.
It really is.
Yes.
Oh, good old San Francisco andour scooters.
Yes.
(15:02):
So that was my Reezy submission.
And now shall we hear fromRachel?
You can hear from me.
SPEAKER_02 (15:09):
I am going to give a couple little...
Not a couple.
One major disclaimer.
It's long.
It's long.
I...
I'm sorry.
I'm not sorry.
We're entertaining
SPEAKER_01 (15:25):
them for
SPEAKER_02 (15:26):
free.
Sure.
Yeah, for free.
It's for free.
So you listen.
Okay.
So this is called An Extra Scoopof Revenge.
And this, well, I don't know.
I hope you like it.
I guess that's it.
Oh, what was your prompt?
Oh, my prompt.
Thank you.
Thank you.
So the prompt for mine was astory of revenge where the
(15:52):
protagonist could have chosenforgiveness.
Right?
I believe that was it.
SPEAKER_01 (15:58):
Yeah, but chooses not to.
SPEAKER_02 (16:00):
Yeah, they could have chosen forgiveness, but
instead they chose revenge.
Okay, here we go.
We were best friends.
In kindergarten, when we met, weinstantly bonded over hanging
upside down on the monkey bars.
We had what seemed like hours ofconversation like this with the
blood rushing to our heads.
In third grade, we agreed thattalking upside down was when we
were the most funny and that weshould live in an upside down
(16:22):
world.
My hair would dangle in aknotted curly mess while
Cassie's hair hung in perfectgolden tendrils.
Her mom took great care of herhair while my mom never bothered
to help me find my brush at all.
There was something about ourfriendship that felt unique,
like we had an unbreakable bondPeople often mistook us as
sisters, and it was true, welooked a lot alike, both with
green eyes and blonde curls.
(16:43):
The older we got, the more thishappened.
In high school, someone asked usif we were twins almost every
time we went out.
Cassie's family had a beautifulhome on Cat Hill Drive.
They had dinner together everynight playing warm fuzzies and
cold pricklies, which was theirsilly way of sharing about their
day.
Sometimes, instead of makingdinner on Sundays, her mom would
serve ice cream Sundays becauseif they didn't want you to do
(17:05):
that, then they would have namedit Undies.
not Sunday, Kathy would say.
I loved her.
I wanted her to be my mom.
I would sit up at night and wishon stars for her to take me
away.
Now we are 18.
Cassie and I still do everythingtogether.
We go to the community collegeand we're both working towards
getting our ADN so that we canbecome nurses at St.
Bart's up in the city.
(17:26):
We've been volunteering as candystripers and Cassie drives us
there two times a week.
They have to separate us byfloor so that the older patients
don't get confused.
Apparently name tags aren't goodenough when it comes to telling
us apart i live in a double wideat golden gables estates which
is a fancy name for a shitmobile home park i live with my
parents but with any luck notfor much longer my dad is never
(17:48):
home whatever flavor of the weekhe's into will take him anywhere
but here my mom has had to workdouble time since the day i was
born to provide for us andserves an extra helping of guilt
every time it gets brought upthe older i get the more it
seems like she can barelytolerate my existence she's
never been kind to me i'm aburden and she makes that clear
Thank you.
Jess, Cassie calls out fromacross the school courtyard,
(18:10):
walking toward me.
We meet every day before classat the fountain in the middle of
the school campus.
As she reaches me, I hand herthe usual, provolone and every
veggie under the sun on a softroll.
She's been a vegetarian sincefourth grade when we watched the
pink slime video.
We sit on the ground to eat,backs against the fountain.
Did you see that we're going tohave a segment in genealogy, I
asked, taking a huge bite of myturkey and Swiss.
(18:32):
I did.
I wonder what Professor Jenningswill do.
I think I remember him sayingthat we get to test ourselves,
maybe today we'll get swabbed.
I swallow hard, excited to getwords out.
What if?
What if our dreams are real?
She cuts me off, finishing mythought and grinning ear to ear.
Yes! Or what if we find outsomething insane?
(18:53):
Like Carl screwed your mom, Iask, and take a sip of my
Snapple.
Then I hope your dad was worthit, because my dad would flip.
Cassie's not kidding.
We've seen Mike on a jealousstreak.
Once, he thought that the swimcoach was flirting with Cassie,
and we all watched while hepushed Coach Peters into the
water.
It was hilarious.
True, I shrug.
What are you doing tonight?
(19:13):
She asks.
I was thinking of going to pickup an app Oh, smart.
Maybe try the ice cream shopnext door too?
I think I saw a sign in theirwindow.
Cassie glances at her watch andthen points to it before
(19:34):
wrapping up the rest of hersandwich and tucking it into her
bag.
Oh, it's time?
That felt fast.
I wrap up my sandwich and westand, dusting crumbs from our
laps.
In class, we did in fact swabour cheeks and discuss the
markers that tell us what makesup our genealogy.
Each of us would receivecomprehensive reports within
three weeks and then do aproject with our results.
The three weeks wereexcruciating, but time went
faster after I got the job atthe ice cream shop.
(19:56):
It paid$16 an hour and I couldwork as many hours as I wanted.
The literal mom and pops shopwas owned by the cutest old
couple I'd ever seen, and theirgrandson, Frank Jr., was the
only other person who manned thecounter.
He was cute, 22, and superflirty.
I lived for the hours we workedtogether, and I know it wasn't
just the freezer that gave mechills when we scooped Rocky
(20:18):
Road side by side.
Today, I'm working in the shop,but Frank Jr.
isn't in the store, so I'm boredout of my mind.
I go to the back and grab my bagto pull out my computer.
It was Cassie's old laptop thatshe gave to me once her parents
upgraded hers for this I need atriple scoop of moose tracks,
stat! Her voice entered the roombefore the little door chime had
(20:38):
a chance to ring.
Hey, Cass! I didn't need tolook.
I knew her voice.
One sec.
I came to hang.
I've got nothing going on.
She yells out at the greaterroom, waiting for me to come
back and taking a seat at ahigh-top table.
I come around the counter, andshe eyes me up and down.
Cute apron.
Hey, I like it.
It's cute.
I look down at my polka dotapron and then push her...
(20:59):
on the shoulder for making fun.
I was about to check my email.
I think we're going to get ourresults back soon.
Did you already register withthe site and fill out the
surveys it wanted us to take?
I pull out the stool next to herand flip open the screen.
I did.
It asked a million questions.
She looks around observing theroom.
It's so quiet in here.
It is.
I hope Frankie comes by soon.
(21:20):
I want you to meet him.
Ooh, Frankie.
She pokes me on the boob.
Shut up.
I smack her hand away and feelmy face burst into flames.
Oh my God, Jess, you're in love.
Cassie screams and it fuels thefire in my cheeks.
Just then the bell chimes and weboth swivel to see him walking
through the door.
I freeze and I swear to God, myheart fell into my butt.
(21:41):
Jess?
Frank Jr.
looks right at Cassie.
No, I'm Cassie.
Nice to meet you.
Cassie bounds towards him, holdsout her hand to shake it.
Whoa, there's two of you?
If he was auditioning for a roleas dumb surfer number three in
the next big summer flick, he'dhave gotten the part.
Sort of.
We get that all the time.
Jess has told me all about you.
Are you working today?
I am.
After school rush is going tohit in the next hour or so.
(22:03):
He points up to the clock andthen looks into my eyes, even
though he's still talking toCassie.
I came in early to hang out withJess.
I smile and resist the urge totouch my face to feel if it's on
fire, and after a moment finallyget the nerve to speak.
Um, I'm just gonna look atsomething for school if that's
okay?
He shrugs.
I'm not your boss.
Whatevs.
I gotta grab my apron.
(22:23):
My heart melts as he heads tothe back.
Jesus, girl, get it together.
Cassie sidles up next to me,whispering in my ear and looking
over my shoulder as my emailloads.
I know, I know.
I just forgot he was working.
Oh, my God.
I grin at her, and she grinsback.
We silently do a little danceand then turn back to the
computer.
Sure enough, the email is herewith the genealogy report.
(22:46):
I log into the site, and Cassiewatches as I click through all
the facts about myself.
I have the gene for cilantrotasting like soap.
Duh.
Curly hair gene?
Duh.
Hey, I'm like 40% Norwegian.
That's cool, I guess.
I say facetiously.
Look at that little icon.
I think that's the relativeicon.
She points to the corner of myscreen where it shows two little
(23:07):
heads next to each other.
I click on it and a pop-upcenters on my screen.
You have one close relativeregistered on this site.
Click this button to givepermission for them to see your
information.
How cool.
I clicked it immediately.
I wonder who it is.
I wonder how close a relative.
Let me sign into mine.
Cassie bumps me out of the waywith her hip and promptly signs
(23:27):
me out.
Frank Jr.
comes back into the room just asthe door chimes.
Two kids and what looks liketheir grandma come into the
shop.
I got it.
Frank waves at me to keep doingwhat I'm doing.
I smile at him and mouth, thankyou.
He smiles back, and my heartturns to mush.
"'Look, I have the icon, too,'Cassie clicks in.
"'You have a close relativeregistered to this site.
(23:47):
Give permission to allow them tosee your information,' she
reads.
But before she clicks, she looksat me, and we are wide-eyed.
"'Click it! What the fuck,Cassie?
Click it!' I'm jumping out of myskin.
"'Hey-o,' Frank says loudly,reminding us that there are
customers in the store.' I turnaround and see the woman shaking
her head in disapproval, and sheclicks her tongue at me.
(24:08):
I'm so sorry.
We're just so excited.
I don't know what else to sayother than the truth.
And you get free sprinkles too,Frank chimes, calling her
attention back in his directionwhile scooping sprinkles onto
the kids' cones.
I turn back to the computer asCassie clicks the icon.
Immediately, my face and myinformation pop up on the
screen.
The computer reads, you have a99.9 chance of being close
(24:32):
siblings with Jessica Brighton,sharing 2,750 centimorgans of
DNA.
Cassie and I are stunned intosilence.
We haven't said a word for overa minute.
The woman and the kids walk outof the store and Frank walks
over to join us.
So what's it say?
He asks innocently.
That we're related, I sayslowly.
(24:53):
Like 99.9%.
That's practically 100%.
We're like sister level related.
Jess, how?
I don't get it.
How?
I mean, we've joked about thisfor years, but neither of our
parents have said anything.
And it's not like we're 50%related.
That means it's not just oneparent.
It's both parents.
(25:14):
No wonder you look so muchalike.
What if your twins separated atbirth?
Frank jokes.
We look at each other.
I was born in October and shewas born in April.
You've seen your birthcertificate, right?
I ask.
I hadn't questioned it whenCynthia told me she had just
lost mine.
I don't think I have, actually.
I mean, I guess I have, but Inever really looked at it.
(25:34):
Cassie's already pulling up hermom's number and calling.
Mom! Kathy didn't even have achance to say hello before
Cassie started in.
We just got our genealogyreports back, and I'm 100%
sisters with Jess, and what thefuck, Mom?
What the fuck?
I can hear the sigh through thephone, and then, oh no.
A few more deep breaths areaudible as Cassie puts it into
(25:54):
speaker.
Mom! Okay, girls, you are withJess right now, right?
I'm here, Kathy, I say.
Okay, girls, can you come here?
I can make us something to eatand we can talk.
Yes, we say at the same time andCassie hangs up.
You can go, I'm good.
Frank squeezes my shoulder.
Are you okay?
Is this a bad thing?
Well, I guess our parents havebeen lying to us our whole
(26:15):
lives, like all four of them.
I don't get it.
I rub my temples and take off myapron, handing it to Frank.
Thank you, Frankie.
"'No problem, Jess.
Come back later if you want.' Hedips his head down to find my
eyes, and I wail with tears.
Trying to blink them away, onefalls, and he touches my cheek
to wipe it away.
(26:35):
"'Thanks,' I say quietly andsmile.
Cassie has my bag in her hand,and we walk out of the shop.
Her car is right out front, andbefore I fully shut the door,
she peels out and we speedtowards her house.
Not even ten minutes later, wescrape into the driveway and
find that it's not just Cassie'sRange Rover in the driveway, but
Mike's Jag, too.' He must haveraced home for this.
He's normally at his office.
(26:57):
We storm into the house and findthem talking quietly at the
dining room table.
Kathy had put out salami andcheese.
Did this seem like a charcuteriemoment to her?
What the fuck?
Cassie lays in, no holds barred.
Okay, shit.
She exhales, trying to calmherself.
Girls, please sit.
This isn't what we wanted.
(27:17):
She looks at Mike, but he won'tlook up from the table at any of
us.
We sat as instructed.
You two are sisters.
In unison, we take a sharpintake of breath.
You're fraternal twins.
We had a birth certificateforged for you, Cassie.
Jess, oh God, Jess, Cassie, Ijust don't even know how to say
this.
Kathy holds her head in herhands and then looks up at Mike,
(27:38):
who is still one notch abovecomatose.
Hey, I could at least use yourhand here, Mike.
She nudges him, and he looks upand then takes her hand, giving
it a squeeze before looking backdown.
We bought you, Cassie.
Kathy chokes on her words,desperate to hold back tears.
Jess, Cassie, girls, Cynthia wasnot in great shape when you two
(27:58):
were born.
She needed money.
Your dad, both of your dad,shit, Carl.
Carl was gambling so much andCynthia was desperate.
She didn't want to sell both ofyou.
She threatened that if we evertold either of you or the
authorities, she'd take you bothso far away that we'd never find
you.
The entire thing was illegal.
It's just, we couldn't have ourown...
(28:20):
And Kathy trails off into sobs.
We had no choice but to keep itfrom you.
Mike finally spoke and made eyecontact with each of us.
She made it clear that if wemade one wrong move, we wouldn't
see either of you ever again.
But we couldn't bear to moveaway and not see you, Jess.
We wanted you in our lives, evenif it was just in this way.
We knew Cynthia would never beable to move.
(28:42):
She'd gotten herself into such ahole.
We had the upper hand on thatone, Kathy adds.
They did.
They had all the money and theresources in the world.
I had to swallow my resentment.
I was the one who lived in afucking double-wide while they
had luxury cars and a swimmingpool.
My thoughts raced as Iconsidered all the times Kathy
fed me, knowing Cynthia didn'tstock our refrigerator.
(29:04):
What I thought were slumberparties were actually their way
of keeping me, even if it wasjust for the weekend.
My life...
My life has been so horriblewith them, I start.
Kathy cuts me off.
There are so many times we wantto just take you and move away,
Jess.
So many times.
Every time we were out andpeople commented on how much you
looked alike, it was like aknife to our hearts.
(29:25):
We offered her as much as wecould afford to take you both.
We wanted you both.
She trailed off again.
I hate her.
I hate her.
I hate them, I scream, not atanyone in particular.
I was so filled with rage.
Why had I been the one she kept?
You're an adult now.
We can forgive them.
We can move on.
We didn't tell you.
You found out on your own, andyou're 18.
(29:46):
She can't do anything to us now.
Kathy sounds so relieved.
She's lived with this burden forso long.
You can forgive them all youwant, I say, and stand.
I always wanted to be yours.
I wanted to be in your family.
The only good parts of my lifehave been with you, and now I
find out that I could have been,that you wanted me, and she
threatened you?
I leave my bag and walk towardthe front door.
(30:09):
Want me to come?
Kathy calls out.
No.
The less people, the better.
I leave through the front doorand formulate my plan while I
run.
The trailer park is about threemiles away as the crow flies,
and I have a well-trodden paththrough a wooded preserve we
created when we were kids.
I am sure that I'm the only onethat uses it, as I often would
(30:29):
leave cairns right in the middleof the trail, which are still
there, and I kick them over as Ipass.
I arrive at Golden Gables andcircle the perimeter.
If I don't go through the frontno one will ever know I'm here.
Our trailer is the last one inthe back corner of the lot and I
had cut a hole in the fencingwhen I was 13 for quick escapes.
I could see my mom wasn't home.
(30:50):
Her old Honda Civic wasn'tparked on the grass outside.
I go inside and pull out a fewbelongings I cared about, my
school books, a few clothes thatI loved, a locket Kathy had
given me, and a small teddy bearthat Mike and Cassie brought to
me in the hospital when I had myappendix out.
I put all of my items in mybackpack and walked into the
kitchen.
As though I needed to give thisplace one last chance to
(31:12):
disappoint me, I looked in thecabinets and find them barren,
laughing as I think about howperfect that is.
Barren is exactly what thisplace, this life with them,
Always was.
I turn towards the stove,blowing out the pilot lights
before turning on every burner.
I grab a pack of matches andleave the house.
There was a small wood pile infront where Cynthia usually
(31:32):
parks, and I take an armful ofsticks to use as kindling.
I head to the back corner of thetrailer, where I know I'm
invisible, make a little pile ofsticks, and ignite it.
This corner is at least 20 feetfrom where the stove is, so I
hope I have a minute to get outof Dodge.
I take off the same way I came,formulating my plan as I run.
I'll go back to work now.
There's no official clock-in orclock-out system, and I'm sure
(31:55):
there's no cameras.
Hopefully, the after-school rushwas busy enough that Frank won't
have noticed much time haspassed.
Clearly, Kathy and Mike aren'tabove fudging the truth, and I
honestly don't think they'lleven ask, mostly because they
don't want to know.
The best part is that Cynthia'sreputation around town speaks
for itself.
No one will believe for a secondthat she didn't do this to
(32:15):
herself to collect insurance.
She's a fraud through andthrough.
Always has been.
I'm safely in the woods by thetime I hear the fire take off
with a small explosion.
Two minutes later, I hear sirensheading that direction.
Walking in the door, the chimesounds.
"'Hey!' Frank Jr.
looks up and smiles.
"'Thanks for letting me take abreak.' I walk to his station,
(32:36):
pick up my apron that he hadleft on the counter.
He knew I'd be back.
No problem, he leans in.
You good?
I'm great.
I scoop myself a cup of doublefudge ripple and grab one of the
tiny tasting spoons.
I take a bite and then scoopanother tiny spoonful and hold
it up to Frank.
He flirtatiously takes it in hismouth and I lean in to kiss his
lips.
(32:57):
Yummy, I smile at him.
I think this may be the best dayof my life.
SPEAKER_01 (33:05):
That's awesome.
I hope I didn't put everyone tosleep.
No.
No, of course not.
I mean, she burns down her mom'strailer.
I mean, she's just like, fuckit.
She's like,
SPEAKER_02 (33:20):
fuck you now.
Bye.
I've never written from ateenager's perspective, so that
was kind of fun.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I love it.
On the back of...
My paper here, it wasdistracting me because I could
see through it.
And I had written, my biggestmistake is always, I'll remember
(33:41):
to tell her that.
What does that mean?
It means that I always have somany things I want to talk to
you about, but then I don'twrite them down.
Oh my gosh,
SPEAKER_01 (33:51):
that's so
SPEAKER_02 (33:51):
cute.
SPEAKER_01 (33:52):
Maybe
SPEAKER_02 (33:52):
that should be a prompt.
SPEAKER_01 (33:52):
But then what's this scribble?
Is that the thing you wanted totell me?
No.
I don't know what that is.
My biggest mistake is alwaysunderscore underscore.
I'll remember to tell her that.
Oh, you're so cute.
Okay.
Okay.
So we have something.
(34:14):
This is so exciting to me thatthis person actually called our
number and recorded her poem.
I think it's a poem.
She's a poet.
Oh, I was asking you about herpronouns.
Oh, actually, I haven't listenedto it yet.
Oh, so you don't know how theyintroduce themselves?
I don't know how they introducethemselves.
(34:34):
Okay, so we don't know.
Yeah.
SPEAKER_02 (34:36):
But
SPEAKER_01 (34:36):
you
SPEAKER_02 (34:36):
know them, right, from school?
I do know this person fromschool, and I feel like we
should cut everything aboutpronouns.
SPEAKER_01 (34:44):
Oh, okay,
SPEAKER_02 (34:45):
sure.
SPEAKER_01 (34:50):
It's too awkward?
Yeah.
You can say stuff that I cut.
Okay, so she's a girl.
She's obviously a girl.
Well, you've called her they afew times.
Yeah, I have.
Why have I done that?
Okay.
Maybe just as a way of speakingthat was normal before.
(35:12):
With
SPEAKER_02 (35:13):
the times.
Yeah, or I don't know.
Whatever.
Fuck.
I'm so PC.
Okay.
Yes, I know this person fromschool, and I'm going to let
them introduce themselves.
Okay.
That's that.
Let her.
Okay, let me pull it up here.
Let me make sure my phone's onas well as I can go.
You're
SPEAKER_01 (35:32):
like, Taylor, she's just a girl.
Okay, sorry.
SPEAKER_00 (35:38):
Hi, my name is MJ, and I'm here to leave a little
poem for you guys.
This one is called Clouds, and Iwrote it a little while ago.
But yeah, I like when the cloudslook like a cheetah print.
As if they think the sky is asafari and they can run through
it.
I like when ripples on the pondlook like a figure eight.
(35:59):
As if they are trying to escapethe tides they make.
I like pine tree needles thatare especially sharp.
As if they want to poke you fordaring to look at them.
I like when ribbons don't tieproperly.
As if they don't want to knot orget too caught up.
I like when bushes are tallerthan me, because at that point
they're basically just trees.
I like when people are beautifulonce you get to know them,
(36:19):
because beauty is something youhave to discover.
I like when boys wear skirts andgirls wear pants.
I think it anatomically justmakes more sense.
I like when the hero dies andthe villain wins just because
it's a rare occurrence.
I like roller coasters that makeyou think you're going to die
because it's the only timescreaming like that is socially
acceptable.
I like when clouds look like apainting.
(36:42):
They think they're just so muchmore artistic than the rest of
us.
I like when blue is mixed withred so it makes purple.
Purple is just so much prettierthan blue.
I like when people speak outabout things that most stay
silent on.
It just makes you a good person,I think.
I like unraveling thepresident's lies like a loose
thread in a sweater.
(37:02):
It helps me sleep better atnight.
I like clouds that are gray andheavy because I can relate.
Aw,
SPEAKER_01 (37:13):
I loved that.
Oh my gosh.
Wow, thank you so much, MJ.
Seriously, I love that poem.
I love the part about the cloudslooking like a cheetah print.
And I love the part aboutenjoying unraveling the
president's lies.
SPEAKER_02 (37:32):
Yeah.
Fucker's a liar.
No kings.
No kings.
No kings.
Yeah, no kings.
I like when bushes are taller.
That's so sweet.
Is she short?
I don't know.
I don't think she's...
I mean, like my height, I don'tthink I'm particularly...
I'm like very average.
(37:52):
How tall are you?
I'm 5'5".
Okay.
Yeah.
That's not too bad.
Yeah.
I feel like average.
I think MJ's average height.
Okay.
Okay.
So MJ is in my class and is awonderful poet.
Oh, yeah.
And I have heard her...
read her poetry before and it'sfantastic.
(38:15):
And she has actually given mepermission to share some other
stuff, which I'll do in thefuture because her stuff is
fantastic and worth listeningto.
And if you ever have a chance toread it when she's most
definitely going to bepublished, you should do it.
SPEAKER_01 (38:32):
Yes.
So do you think that when she'spublished, she's going to go by
MJ?
I
SPEAKER_02 (38:38):
believe that's the plan.
SPEAKER_01 (38:39):
Yeah.
Yeah.
Okay, cool.
Well, thank you so much, MJ.
I'm going to listen to thatagain a couple of times.
And I like the way that youdelivered it with so much
passion.
So I'm looking forward tohearing the next poem about Elon
Musk.
SPEAKER_02 (38:54):
Oh, yes.
Her poem about Elon is...
Badass.
SPEAKER_01 (38:58):
Okay, so we're going to put that in another story
time
SPEAKER_02 (39:00):
episode.
Yes, that definitely needs to goup.
Okay, so I'm going to just throwsomething at you guys.
The flamingo poem.
SPEAKER_01 (39:06):
Yeah.
It's happening.
I'm a little embarrassed.
We talked about this in episodetwo where we were talking about
how Rachel doesn't like poetryjust because she thinks that
it's too vulnerable.
I'm
SPEAKER_02 (39:21):
coming around, though.
I'm coming around with a friendlike MJ.
Oh, my God.
I mean, she's, like, fantastic,so I
SPEAKER_01 (39:29):
have to.
And, I mean, a poem like MJ's,Clouds, it doesn't feel, I don't
know, it's interesting and funto listen to and pick up on all
the ideas and But it's not thekind of thing where you feel
like she's scraping your heartout of your vagina or something.
(39:52):
Sure, sure, sure.
In the way that you said thatyou don't like how it's so
vulnerable.
Although
SPEAKER_02 (39:57):
she did read one poem in class once that was like
very vulnerable.
And it was also incredible.
And that was, I think, one ofthe first ones that got read in
class.
SPEAKER_01 (40:08):
Oh, wow.
She did a really vulnerable oneright from the top.
Right out the gate.
And it
SPEAKER_02 (40:12):
was really incredible reading.
And I remember thinking, likesitting there, she was across
the room from me and thinkinglike, if she can do that, then,
like, I'm just a huge fuckingpussy if I can't read.
Like, that was amazing.
And get your head out of yourass, girl.
(40:32):
You know, to me, to myself.
SPEAKER_01 (40:33):
Oh, right,
SPEAKER_02 (40:34):
right.
Yeah.
SPEAKER_01 (40:34):
So then you wrote this thing about the flamingo.
SPEAKER_02 (40:38):
And then I torched it up and wrote this flamingo
poem.
And here we go.
Are you ready?
Mm-hmm.
Oh, they're going to be sick ofhearing me.
Okay.
I've called it The Fierce andFlamboyance.
Because as you know, a group offlamingos is called a
flamboyance.
SPEAKER_01 (40:56):
As it should
SPEAKER_02 (40:56):
be.
Yes.
We watch them at the zoo, endurethe stench of the enclosure.
I read the information about howthese creatures exist in the
world.
My daughter grabs at my body,climbing me to get higher,
higher, higher.
She wants to look over the railand absorb the deep magenta and
the feminine elegance that shebelieves is just out of reach.
(41:18):
Those legs, like toothpicks.
Strange, backward, knobby knees.
No, they're ankles.
Deceiving and odd.
Why do they sleep like that,Mama?
On just one leg?
To regulate temperature.
To stay balanced.
To quicken their movements.
They watch us, just as we watchthem.
Mouths agape and ready to flee.
(41:40):
that neck slender and sleek thelength of which seems
superfluous at best 19 elongatedvertebrae inside all i can see
is this plague mask used forreaping small creatures from the
muck this delicate bodyilluminated against the scenery
a flamboyant highlighter amongstmud and grass Each pink shrimp
(42:03):
consumed enhances itsbrilliance, a killer wearing its
prey, flaunting it with a brightand exquisite persona.
The brighter the bird, the moreaggressive.
I see that deep black under eachwing, the strongest feathers,
the ones only shown whenprovoked, hidden strength and
unpredictability.
Not foul, but phonic.
(42:25):
I never thought I'd have to saythis word out loud.
Oh, no.
Not foul, but phonic.
I don't know how to say that forreal.
Please don't even cut that part.
I feel like it's important.
Not foul, but...
Foul, nonetheless.
(42:46):
Okay, okay.
Let me read that last bit again.
Hidden strength inunpredictability.
Not foul, but...
Foul, nonetheless.
I squeeze her tighter, my sweetsmall girl.
She reaches for these creatures,a moth to a hot pink flame.
One small move in our directionand I would kick out those
(43:07):
stupid legs and break that longneck, push away its thick,
strong beak, rip off eachridiculous limb one by one.
What wouldn't I do to protecther?
SPEAKER_01 (43:19):
Oh, my gosh.
Oh, shit.
I wasn't recording.
No, no.
I mean, we were recording onhere.
That was it.
That was good.
Oh, thanks.
Yeah.
Did you go to like...
Okay.
What am I trying to ask?
(43:39):
I'm trying to ask if like...
You went to the zoo and took apicture of the sign or
something?
Because you know a lot of stuffabout the flamingos.
Or did you sort of do a littleresearch for your poem?
I did a little research for thepoem.
SPEAKER_02 (43:51):
Yeah, so the assignment in class, this was
one of our assignments, was tomake a poem about an animal.
And it could not be a pet.
It had to be like a...
some animal out there in theworld.
And I chose a flamingo.
And my professor actually madejokes that he was like, oh, you
know, like Miami, you know, palmleaves, flamingos, it's going to
(44:11):
be great.
And I remember thinking tomyself, just you wait.
Just you wait.
SPEAKER_01 (44:18):
Yes.
SPEAKER_02 (44:19):
Okay.
Okay.
So enough of storytelling.
SPEAKER_01 (44:23):
Storytime.
Yeah.
That was another storytimeepisode.
And we'll sign off here in asec.
But I have something that I wantto discuss with you, Rachel.
Okay.
I forwarded you a newsletter.
Did you have a chance to readit?
Oh my God, no.
Oh my God, you didn't read it?
I think I did.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
It was the Chuck Palahniuk one.
Well, I feel like I did.
(44:43):
Okay, it's okay because I'mgoing to explain it to you and
to the people who are listening.
Okay.
We need like a name for thepeople listening, like how
singers have...
Stupid names for all their fans,like Bully Burs and Little
Monsters and stuff.
Hardys?
Hardys?
Aww.
(45:06):
Little Hardys.
Are they going to like that?
I don't know.
Okay, Hardys.
Call in and let us know what youthink.
Yeah, maybe.
I heard that Taylor Swift, notto bring Taylor Swift up on the
podcast for the third time, butI heard that her fans named
themselves Hardys.
I think that everybody else'sfans, it's like there's a
(45:27):
marketing team that comes upwith it.
But her fans, they were thefirst ones to do it.
What are they called?
Oh, Swifties.
Well, good for them.
Okay, Hardys.
So do you guys know ChuckPalahniuk?
He was the author of Fight Cluband 19 other novels.
Oh, yeah.
I remember this now.
SPEAKER_02 (45:47):
Oh, yeah.
Did you read Fight Club or anyof his books?
I haven't.
No.
Okay.
But I've listened to interviewswith him and I like him.
SPEAKER_01 (45:54):
Oh, you have?
Oh, great.
Okay, cool.
Yeah.
Okay.
So his newsletter is called PlotTwist.
And he fucking, I wrote all thisout so that I could say this on
here.
One sec.
Okay.
Okay.
I'm just going to clap.
(46:15):
So Chuck Palahniuk, he has anewsletter called Plot Twists
that I subscribe to and I readit sometimes.
It's awesome.
It's a really great resource.
And I didn't read Fight Club,but I loved the film.
And I read another book of hiscalled Snuff when I was a
teenager, and it was so dark andcrazy.
It is about snuff, like films.
(46:38):
Yeah.
And, um, yeah, that was reallygood, but I'd like to read more
of his work and I like hisnewsletter.
So anyways, on June 17th, he hadan issue of the newsletter
called a cheater's thrill.
And basically he's givingwriting advice and he was
talking about, um, how if youwrite when you're not supposed
to write, it can give you like alittle thrill and it can bring
(47:01):
that thrill into your writing.
Like, um, A prisoner in a gulagwriting on toilet paper or
something.
Oh, okay.
Yeah, I really hacked that,Kayla.
So in the middle section of thisnewsletter, he talks about
writing about your secrets.
(47:22):
Ooh.
And he gives examples from likea lot of famous people who wrote
works but then never confirmedif it was like true or what it
was based on so like um shirleyjackson's short story the
lottery have you read that one ihave oh you have yeah okay so so
(47:43):
like shirley jackson's thelottery which was a bit of a
precursor like to the hungergames um a lot of people thought
yeah totally right a lot ofpeople thought that her story
where townspeople are sort ofchosen to be brutally murdered,
that it was based on the draftfor the war.
(48:03):
But she never confirmed ordenied it.
Basically, what Chuck was sayingin this email was like, you
should you should write yoursecrets.
And there was one.
Oh, there was another example.
So Stephen King, he has a storycalled The Body, which And it's
believed to be about a childhoodevent where King went to play
(48:28):
with a close friend.
And when he came home, he waslike stunned.
And the friend was later foundto have been killed by a train
on the railroad tracks nearby.
And so whether or not StephenKing saw his friend killed or
whatever, decades later, hewrote about the experience.
He never confirmed or deniedthat.
(48:51):
So that's pretty sweet.
And so I thought it might bereally fun.
Okay, so here's the second partof this.
Chuck Palahniuk has astorytelling night.
SPEAKER_02 (49:04):
Didn't Stephen King write Stand By Me, which is
about the group of kids who findthe body on the train tracks?
SPEAKER_01 (49:10):
Oh, maybe Stand By Me was based on the story The
Body.
Yeah.
Is Stand By Me a book too?
SPEAKER_02 (49:17):
Yeah, it was a book written by Stephen King that got
made into that movie.
SPEAKER_01 (49:21):
That's so crazy that he went out and played with his
friends.
And then when he came back, hewas all like fucked up.
And then they found the frienddead on the train tracks.
Stephen.
Poor Stephen King.
Poor guy.
Yeah, I don't know if Chuck hasconfirmed this.
Or maybe he said this in aninterview.
But with Fight Club, it saidthat he was on a camping trip.
(49:45):
And he went over to anotherplace.
campsite nearby and he wastelling them to keep it down um
keep down the noise on theirradio and they beat him up like
those people and then when hereturned to work he was like
really struck by how nobodywould mention or acknowledge his
injuries and they would justlike he was all fucked up from
(50:09):
getting his ass kicked andpeople were just like oh how was
your weekend you know like Youknow, if you see somebody has
like a shiner and like a cut lipor whatever, like do you go,
hey, what happened?
I feel like I would, but maybeit's not really, maybe not a lot
of people would.
SPEAKER_02 (50:25):
Yesterday I was sitting in a cafe writing for
like a few hours and my server,I think she had a black eye and
it really bummed me out.
And I was looking at it and itwas like really bummed me out
while I was sitting there, but Ididn't say anything.
SPEAKER_01 (50:38):
Yeah.
I mean, to your server, yeah.
Right?
Like, if it was...
Oh, like a
SPEAKER_02 (50:43):
co-worker?
Like, if you came here today andyou had a shiner, I definitely
would say something.
SPEAKER_01 (50:47):
Yes.
Yeah.
Or a co-worker.
Like, but I guess...
I don't know.
Normies are so restrained.
SPEAKER_02 (50:56):
Normies.
Okay.
SPEAKER_01 (51:00):
Okay.
So what's our assignment here?
What
SPEAKER_02 (51:01):
are we doing?
What's Chuck got in store for
SPEAKER_01 (51:04):
us?
All right.
So he has this thing, this nightin Portland that's called the
slush pile.
I don't know when the next oneis or how to figure that out,
but I know that one of them wason a Wednesday night.
And they're from like 6.30 to9.30 at this bar or restaurant
(51:24):
or something.
And I was thinking we could bothwrite a story about our secrets.
Like a story about somethingthat we would never want anyone
to know that we thought or feltor did or wanted.
Let someone do to us.
And then we go to Oregon.
(51:45):
Just go to
SPEAKER_02 (51:46):
Oregon.
SPEAKER_01 (51:46):
Yeah.
Take the show on the road.
Yes.
Take the show on the road.
We get in our vehicle.
We do a road trip or we take anice flight.
Great.
First class, baby.
Yeah.
First class to Chuck.
The first class all the way toChucky.
And we read our thing in frontof strangers.
And...
Never confirm or deny.
(52:07):
Never confirm or deny.
And only we know each other'sdeepest, darkest secret, and
then we can hold it over eachother's heads for the rest of
our lives.
SPEAKER_02 (52:15):
Oh, wow.
That's a really fun idea.
Don't you think?
I don't think Portland's thatfar from here.
It's really not.
I mean, like, it's the same asflying to San Diego
distance-wise, I think.
SPEAKER_01 (52:26):
Yeah.
So we could let Chuck know thatwe're coming, too.
We could be like, we have thispodcast, and we're going to come
and do
SPEAKER_02 (52:32):
our thing.
UNKNOWN (52:32):
I don't know, Chuck.
SPEAKER_01 (52:34):
Hey, we're coming.
UNKNOWN (52:35):
But...
SPEAKER_01 (52:36):
As far as posting the stories on the podcast, I
think Probably not.
Well, obviously not.
If we do the assignment.
Definitely not wanting to sharemy deepest, darkest secrets.
Unless we put it behind apaywall or something.
Oh, look at you.
You're ready to share.
Probably not.
I don't know.
I don't even know what my secretis going to be.
I know I have some, but I'llhave to really dig.
(52:57):
Or maybe we'll just throw theminto
SPEAKER_02 (52:58):
a
SPEAKER_01 (52:59):
story time someday and never acknowledge that it
was
SPEAKER_02 (53:00):
the actual secret one.
Oh my gosh, that is such a goodidea.
Diabolical.
SPEAKER_01 (53:05):
Okay, so one day they will pop up in our story
times, but- you'll never knowthat it was real i'm into it
wowie zowie this is getting sodeep so dark so good okay so
that's i i think that's like ourhomework i think okay
SPEAKER_02 (53:23):
deep dark secrets on the paper um okay well i do have
to say that while i that isdefinitely fun i can She doesn't
want to go.
No, I definitely want to go.
I definitely do.
So I'm now at like 48,000 wordson my dinner for eight.
(53:46):
Wow, that's so much.
I'm trying to figure out how toend this puppy.
SPEAKER_01 (53:50):
You don't want to work on something else right
SPEAKER_02 (53:55):
now.
I'm a little nervous to work
SPEAKER_01 (53:57):
on something else right now.
It doesn't have to be right nowat all.
It can be in September orsomething.
Okay.
You know, maybe once your firstdraft is done.
Yeah, right, right.
Or maybe you'll need a breakfrom working on that.
I think it
SPEAKER_02 (54:10):
will be good for me to, once I finish a draft, pause
and step away and then come backto it.
SPEAKER_01 (54:17):
That's like the advice that Stephen King
actually gives in his book onwriting.
Yeah.
He says, put it in a drawer.
And he says, the longer you canstay away from it, the better.
For me, I always felt like, oh,I have to get it done because I
have to get it published and Ihave to blah, blah, blah.
But- Now I've realized it takesso long to get something
published anyways.
You might as well just take thetime you need.
(54:39):
Oh, yeah, for sure.
Do the best you can
SPEAKER_02 (54:40):
do.
Quality over
SPEAKER_01 (54:42):
quantity or speed or whatever.
So one day we may go to Portlandand do this once Rachel has
the...
Creative energy and the time tobreak down her deepest darkest
secret.
I feel like it's a great goal to
SPEAKER_02 (54:54):
have by the end of the year.
And I love this.
And I love that Chuck is doingthat.
Yeah.
SPEAKER_01 (54:59):
Very fun.
Yeah.
He just lets people get up andread their stories and he like
attends and yeah.
Cool.
He seems really awesome.
I want to meet Chuck.
I mean, his social commentary isfantastic.
He's fantastic.
He's fantastic.
We love you, Chuck.
Yeah.
Okay, so that was story time.
We hope that you enjoyed ourstories and we'll be back at you
(55:21):
next Wednesday.
See ya!
UNKNOWN (55:25):
Music
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