Writers on Writing #18: Luke Thominet
An Open Letter to My Ugly Stepchildren
Dear Stories I’ve Written, Please don’t be angry with me when I say that I far prefer other people’s stories. I know you’ve seen me laughing with them, hanging onto their every word, but that’s just how it is. They are interesting and funny and sexy and amazing. You, well you are like that same old joke my uncle tells every Thanksgiving (“What do clouds wear as undergarments?”), and I don’t care about the punch line anymore.
Don’t you worry, I’ll always think fondly of the time we’ve spent together. Do you remember that time when you surprised me so much I couldn’t look at you for day? Do you remember the long nights we’ve stayed up talking about important things like life, love, and whether or not zombies could ever get either of them? I won’t ever forget those times, but mostly I’ll remember how your voice would sometimes crack and fade. It’s just, well, I can’t stand looking at you anymore.
That is to say, there was a time when I liked you; back when we first met each other, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s only since I’ve become your dermatologist that I’ve started to question our relationship. I’ve excised your moles and stray hairs, but I still see the scars on your face. And I see those wrinkles you still have, which I can’t seem to get rid of because they’re too close to your eyes.
Speaking of – did you know that Van Morrison hates “Brown Eyed Girl” so much that he refuses to perform it? If Morrison rejects his most famous song, why should I like any of you? What I mean to say is that I’m so sorry for always bad mouthing you to others, but I just know you too well.
P.S. Please don’t call or write, I’ll get in touch when I’m ready.