We went to see Chuck Palahniuk last night.
He signed Fight Club and his new book for me. He wrote “I am John’s Book” inside. After meeting him for only a moment, I was suddenly reminded of Matt Forbeck. The kind of guy who really is genuinely kind… and has just enough Loki blood in his veins.
He read a story called “Guts.” He requested we all turn off our tape recorders and video recorders. “Let this story exist only in this moment.” I was reminded of when I told John Zinser why I didn’t want the L5R storyline to be written down anywhere. “It exists in the minds of the players,” I said. “And there’s no story I can write that’s more powerful than that.” Chuck understands that.
He read the story. I won’t tell you a thing about it, other than it was one of the most potent, most powerful storytellng experience I’ve ever seen. The story was so intense, Chuck had to hold on to the microphone with both hands. He clenched the microphone so hard, his knuckles were white. I remember Darrell telling me he didn’t know how long Chuck read that story. We were mesmerized. It was appaling, captivating, disturbing… It did what good fiction does: it walks up to the reader, slams a fist in your gut, and says, “Deal with this!” It’s the reason I can’t read most fantasy crap anymore. It doesn’t challenge me. Not like this thing did. I had to hold on to the seat not to get up and leave… but I couldn’t leave. The audience was laughing and cringing in equal time.
In the middle of the story, I heard a voice behind me quietly shouting. “Oh my God!” she said. We all turned. Someone passed out. I shit you not. Passed right the fuck out. A combination of three hundred people in a small, hot room and the intensity of the subject matter made this poor guy fall flat on his face. I couldn’t believe it. We all looked at Chuck, this sudden realization… his story had done what he wanted. But… what… he’s… smiling?
“This happens all the time,” he said. “Every time I read this thing, someone passes out.”
The audience didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. Here’s this poor guy in the back of the room, unconscious. The story was so powerful, it just hit him square in the jaw, and just like some action movie cliche, he fell right flat to the floor.
The poor guy was taken out of the room, Chuck gave a quick look like, “Sorry!” and without missing a beat, went right on to finish the story.
It’s called “Guts.” He says it will be in a collection of short fiction later next year. I don’t know if it will have the same emotional impact… but it was a moment. A moment I’ll carry with me for a long time. I’d forgotten how powerful words are. I remember now. The Day of Thunder… the Last Kachiko Story… I’d forgotten. I’ll remember now.
At the end, we stood in line again to have Chuck sign
Then, Darrell and I wolfpac’d him. On the way home, Darrell said, “Ain’t no way that ain’t never gonna be fresh.” I gotta agree.
I just hope Chuck opens up that magazine cover. There’s more than a few surprises waiting for him… we left our mark. Like sticking things behind a wall… we left something for Chuckie P. They might give him a giggle. It’s a small thank you for all the laughter and cringes he’s given us.
You rule, Chuck.
And you keep kicking my ass… reminding me that I’m never as good as I think I am.
I’m tryin’ to keep up. And I’ll do what you told me when you and I were alone for just ten seconds.
Promise.
http://www.pizortal.com/stuff/neospacemonkies.jpg