Do you know how Chuck Palahniuk lost his virginity? I do.
Last night I had the privilege of attending a Chuck Palahniuk reading promoting his new book, Doomed. I had seen him (and actually met him) at a signing a couple of years ago when he was promoting Rant. This time around, Chuck did things a little differently. For instance: there was a dress code. Attendees were asked to wear their pajamas for a PJ party.
Pictured, Mr. Palahniuk looking dapper in his red smoking jacket:
I decided to break out my favourite PJs:
Upon entering the event, Indigo employees handed out deflated plain white beach balls and glow sticks. The audience was instructed to inflate the beach balls, insert the glow sticks into a designated pocket within the inflated ball, and then write a question on the ball. When it came to question and answer time, the lights dimmed and the crowd turned into a human pinball machine, mixing up the balls to find good, Chuck-worthy questions.
While this was all fun, there was actual reading going on too, I swear.
For the record, I shouldn’t have to justify why Mr. Palahniuk is my favourite author, but here it is: anyone who knocks Margaret Atwood and the Kardashians in the same story (“Zombies” forthcoming in Playboy) is tops in my eyes.
The story of how he lost his virginity was so raw and awkward (as most of ours I’m sure would be), but told in Palahniuk’s distinct voice and cadence. It was infused with irony and a sort of hilarious poetics that makes me think that he can’t have just recalled it on the spot-- it must have been forethought, recalled and retold. The thing is: how far can you trust a storyteller? Perhaps veracity should not be a qualifier for trust in the case of art, because I can tell you that I know I can always trust Chuck for a couple things: to entertain me, to shock and amaze me, and to take me to school.
And take me to school, he did. Chuck casually put on a clinic, as per usual, in terms of writing advice. One question asked about a particular technique Chuck has called “unpacking”. Chuck explained the necessity of reading a story out loud, so that you’d know when you start to lose your audience to death by boredom. Chuck explained that, “When I look out at you and see a bored face, I think, that person must have a hearing problem”. He put this theory to practice when he read one of his classic short stories, “Guts”, a story that has a history of making people faint due to it’s graphic nature (sometimes known as “the Guts Effect”).
The highlight of my evening however was when Chuck read his new story, the aforementioned “Zombies”, about people using automatic external defribillators on their brains, turning them into “zombies”. Sort of like suicide, but without the death part. I know that little recap doesn’t sound so cheery, but I promise you that this story has one of the most uplifting, beautiful morals of any other Palahniuk story I’ve ever read.
Having just received my copy of Doomed, my plans for this weekend have been made. I’ll report back soon.
Last night I had the privilege of attending a Chuck Palahniuk reading promoting his new book, Doomed. I had seen him (and actually met him) at a signing a couple of years ago when he was promoting Rant. This time around, Chuck did things a little differently. For instance: there was a dress code. Attendees were asked to wear their pajamas for a PJ party.
Pictured, Mr. Palahniuk looking dapper in his red smoking jacket:
I decided to break out my favourite PJs:
Upon entering the event, Indigo employees handed out deflated plain white beach balls and glow sticks. The audience was instructed to inflate the beach balls, insert the glow sticks into a designated pocket within the inflated ball, and then write a question on the ball. When it came to question and answer time, the lights dimmed and the crowd turned into a human pinball machine, mixing up the balls to find good, Chuck-worthy questions.
While this was all fun, there was actual reading going on too, I swear.
For the record, I shouldn’t have to justify why Mr. Palahniuk is my favourite author, but here it is: anyone who knocks Margaret Atwood and the Kardashians in the same story (“Zombies” forthcoming in Playboy) is tops in my eyes.
The story of how he lost his virginity was so raw and awkward (as most of ours I’m sure would be), but told in Palahniuk’s distinct voice and cadence. It was infused with irony and a sort of hilarious poetics that makes me think that he can’t have just recalled it on the spot-- it must have been forethought, recalled and retold. The thing is: how far can you trust a storyteller? Perhaps veracity should not be a qualifier for trust in the case of art, because I can tell you that I know I can always trust Chuck for a couple things: to entertain me, to shock and amaze me, and to take me to school.
And take me to school, he did. Chuck casually put on a clinic, as per usual, in terms of writing advice. One question asked about a particular technique Chuck has called “unpacking”. Chuck explained the necessity of reading a story out loud, so that you’d know when you start to lose your audience to death by boredom. Chuck explained that, “When I look out at you and see a bored face, I think, that person must have a hearing problem”. He put this theory to practice when he read one of his classic short stories, “Guts”, a story that has a history of making people faint due to it’s graphic nature (sometimes known as “the Guts Effect”).
The highlight of my evening however was when Chuck read his new story, the aforementioned “Zombies”, about people using automatic external defribillators on their brains, turning them into “zombies”. Sort of like suicide, but without the death part. I know that little recap doesn’t sound so cheery, but I promise you that this story has one of the most uplifting, beautiful morals of any other Palahniuk story I’ve ever read.
Having just received my copy of Doomed, my plans for this weekend have been made. I’ll report back soon.
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