You’d live a gigantic, bold, fun, dazzling life.

Chuck Palahniuk on life. (The Commonplace Book Project)

You can find all the posts in The Commonplace Book Project here:

“If you knew that your life was merely a phase or short, short segment of your entire existence, how would you live? Knowing nothing ‘real’ was at risk, what would you do? You’d live a gigantic, bold, fun, dazzling life. You know you would.” — Chuck Palahniuk, The AV Club

Chuck Palahniuk had a birthday this week and he’s the author of one of my favorite bits of writing advice — so I thought I’d start tonight’s rabbit hole with him.

I wrote the other day about how no one really knows anything when it comes to bringing a story into the world, whatever the format. Palahniuk’s book Fight Club is an excellent example of that.

He wrote it in an effort to further disturb editors who were disturbed by an earlier book that he couldn’t get published. He didn’t have a literary agent until after the book was published and producers were talking about making it into a movie.

Without further ado — this essay by Chuck Palahniuk may be my favorite. Ever. There are some books I like more, but for short pieces that have just one focus, this one is spectacular.

Here’s a good article about the author.

I didn’t know that Palahniuk accidentally invented what may be the “snowflake” insult.

And, here’s one more really good writing post from Palahniuk.

Today’s Short Story:

Today’s Poem:

Welcome, Dangerous Life by Ben Gunsberg

The doctors guessed your guts were snarled, so they strapped you to a board,

inched a hose down your esophagus, pumped you full of X-ray dye.

Now shuffle close, play peek-a-boo behind your mother’s thigh.

Hello. Goodbye. Son, there’s more. I’ll shape that room before its memory dims,

white-blue walls, wires up your arm, skin still downy from the womb.

Nurses take you out and there we sit, stewed in antiseptic air. A wheeled IV

squeaks, sour smell of grief, our minds buttoned to your body down the hall,

where they shield your infant head behind lead plates, the X-ray’s eye

getting at the truth about your bowels. We know it’s for the best,

doctors doing this detective work like archeologists freeing frescos

sealed by plaster. No, not like that. You’ll learn I rush comparisons.

This night is like nothing. Two people on a foldout bed,

one gave birth ten hours past, the other pleads.

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Shaunta Grimes is a writer and teacher. She is an out-of-place Nevadan living in Northwestern PA with her husband, three superstar kids, two dementia patients, a good friend, Alfred the cat, and a yellow rescue dog named Maybelline Scout. She’s on Twitter @shauntagrimes and is the author of Viral Nation and Rebel Nation and the upcoming novel The Astonishing Maybe. She is the original Ninja Writer.