I pull from some personal shit on this one more than I usually do with my stories (which is generally a pretty fair amount to begin with). It's subject matter I've not been brave enough to share until the past, maybe, two years.
Also, I insert some Leo Tolstoy into this one, obvious by the title for starters. Tolstoy is my favorite stylist - not my favorite storyteller - but goddamn his style is impossible. Listen, for real, go read him. Not one of the novels, though Anna Karenina is a fine one if you can push through to the last two pages, where all the patience and pushing through gets a right fine pay off.
But start with the short stories. Start with "Alyosha the Pot" if you're just getting into him. Then move next to his short novel Master and Man. Just read Tolstoy is what I'm saying. He style is simple enough to be read in grade school. Thing is, you may not appreciate its themes and profundity until much later in life. But ain't that at least the start of a great relationship.
Hope you like the story. And I guess it's okay if you want to leave a comment here and tell me it was good or that it was so bad it nearly blinded you with horror while reading. Don't care. Just say something.
