January 30th, 2023 - Different People
Dear TNY,
Jesus Handjob Christ with this fucking “Different People” shit.
Why do you do this to all of us? These stories are all so fucking boring. From the outset you announce that the main character lies in her diary because her life is uninteresting, and then you go ahead and describe this fucking uninteresting life for pages. The readership that likes this shit has got to be the most uneducated group of people on planet earth. Or maybe miseducated. Yeah, that’s a better word. Like, they were tricked into thinking this type of shit is good and will continue to believe that without ever trying to learn what is good and what’s not.
Positives? Sure. There were some phrases in here that I dug. The one that comes to mind is about how as the old man got older, more of his insides were revealed through his skin. But, who cares, you know? A few pretty or clever phrases do not fix a completely beige story. It’s just poop up in here.
Oh, and how the hell does anyone name a character Gilly in today’s society? It’s not a bad name, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that Saturday Night Live has established that most people can’t read the name Gilly without hearing it like it’s pronounced in the sketches. Which, you know, external waypoints kick a motherfucker out of the story. I’m not saying that certain cultural references have governance over what you can and can’t write. Write whatever the fuck you want. But there should be an understanding that your work will suffer if you include shit that lives in the shadow of something bigger. And yes, TNY, SNL is so much bigger than you. And more culturally relevant (now, I don’t think SNL is very good most of the time (especially these days), but Weekend Update is WAY bigger and better than you, and that’s enough for me).
Anyway, here’s some news from me, old friend. Are you ready for this? You aren’t. But I’m going to lay it on you anyway.
I am happy.
Did you hear that? I’m fucking happy.
Am I better? Cured? Over it? No. But, it’s like the swirling gyre of terrible shit I have been floating on…like, it’s floating closer to land. And I’m making a break for it. And I’m a damn good swimmer. I know I have a lot of work to do. But right now, weirdly, I see a fucking path. And I’m taking it. Friends and family I have been talking to are resoundingly saying that I sound different. Like, I’m not the person I usually am, I’m the one they know is inside me but I stuff down to protect myself. And I keep hearing that it’s about time I did this, fucking pulled myself out of this tailspin, that people were worried. That I’m beautiful and they want me to be around a long time and, for the first time in a while, I do too. And that people didn’t really try to fix me because I’m an asshole and can’t be convinced of anything unless I do it myself. So they were waiting for me. But now everyone is happy. Because I might not die just yet. And TNY, that’s both sad, that they were so worried and couldn’t do anything about it, and extraordinary that so many people care so much.
So I’m gonna try not to disappoint. I’ll have missteps here and there. That’s what living is for. Mistakes. But goddamn it, I’m gonna make it.
Anyway, please publish better shit. Maybe a story in which something happens.
Thanks.
Nick
