The Electric Typewriter

by Tom Chiarella

Most trends are made up and stupid. The so-called mancession was the stupidest made-up trend of our time.

by Tom Chiarella

At a party recently I watched a four-year-old boy drop his pants in a corner of the yard and take a leak. No one blinked. Boys do this in the darkling night. The kid seemed to take in the ocean view as he threaded the darkness with his piss.

Tom Chiarella’s guide to alpha male psychology

The Art of the Handshake
A perfunctory gesture? Hardly. It defines the exchange. A hands-on study of a subtle craft.

The Invisible Grip
Maintaining eye contact feels awkward, even creepy. At first. Then it just feels powerful.

On Saying No
Not “No, thanks.” Not “nope.” Just “no.” clear, unambiguous, empowering “no.” But not in a mean way.

by Tom Chiarella

This story isn’t about quitting smoking. It’s about starting. And starting, for me, included thirty-four different brands of cigarette, eleven lighters, spiritual revelations and moments of clarity, gatherings at alley mouths, unions with strangers on the streets of various cities, huddlings on a ragged porch watching the hand-cupped flare of a match in a snowstorm, a perpetual sore throat, a nagging cough, several puking sessions, a six-day headache, an increased appetite, a bout of vertigo, and a wicked case of what I can only call moral confusion. It also meant joining a kind of club, getting bitch-slapped by hegemony, trying to fit in, and not wanting to fit in.

By Tom Chiarella

Buying a hot dog is an essential, unquestionable transaction, the lowest common denominator of American commerce. That’s why I wanted a deal.

by Tom Chiarella

I would like to know what it’s like to arrive at a curb, have the velvet rope unhooked, be whisked into a club surrounded by two or three large men in mysteriously classy but unobtrusive overcoats.

by Tom Chiarella

We’ve ignored all the evidence of male achievement and ambition deficits and stood aside as our sons have notched a growing record of failure and disengagement.

by Tom Chiarella

When it comes to the language of money, credit cards are nouns. Dull, concrete, limited by rules and restrictions and creepy fine print, credit cards have all the élan of aluminum foil. Personal checks - the coward’s stand-in for cash - are ugly and static pronouns. But a twenty-dollar bill, now, that’s a thing of beauty. Nothing static about a twenty. Used correctly, a twenty is all about movement, access, cachet.

By Halle Berry & Tom Chiarella

A writer sat across the table from an actress. She told him most writers screw up the story. He told her writing isn’t easy. She asked to give it a shot. This is what happened.

By Tom Chiarella

It’s simple enough: They want answers, and they want meat. A butcher has to have a lot of each. So that’s when I lean in, against the solidity of the counter, into the skin of the apron. I’ve been there long enough to be a guy with some answers, a guy with trusted skills. Butcher.