reading

Moth alchemy

“The great story-teller Frank O’Connor said that every good story should end, in spirit, with the exact same words: And everything that ever happened to me afterwards, I never felt the same about again. (He actually got to use that ending, once.) In this new book of Moth stories, that test of significance, of meaning, is – once more – met again and again. There are very few of these well-told tales that don’t have those words as an invisible addition. You can mouth them to yourself as the story ends: Jesus, she could never have felt the same about anything after that…

And if I’ll never feel the same is the moral of every good story, We’re all in this together is the moral of every Moth occasion. Of all the alchemies of human connection – sex and childbirth and marriage and friendship – the strangest is this: You can stand up and tell a story that is made entirely, embarrassingly, of I’s, and a listening audience somehow turns each I into a me. This is the alchemy of all literature and it is what makes The Moth fly.”

Adam Gopnik

First published in Great Britain in 2017 by

SERPENT’S TAIL:

3 Holford Yard, Bevin Way

London WC1X 9HD

www.serpentstail.com

Copyrights in the individual works retained by the contributors

The moral right of the authors has been asserted.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

eISBN 978-1781256657

All These Wonders

True stories about facing the unknown from

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EDITED BY

Catherine Burns

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Contents

Introduction: Word of Moth by Lemn Sissay

The Eternal Music of the Spheres

The Moon and Stars Talks // Tara Clancy

Unusual Normality // Ishmael Beah

The Quest for Chad // Arthur Bradford

The House of Mourning // Kate Braestrup

The Girl from Beckenham // Suzi Ronson

God, Death, and Francis Crick // Christof Koch

Things I’ve Seen

Where are you going? // Jung Chang

The Most Hated Man in Australia // Dan Ilic

Fog of Disbelief // Carl Pillitteri

The Two Times I Met Laurence Fishburne // Chenjerai Kumanyika

Untitled // Louis C.K

A Tale of Two Dinners // Bliss Broyard

Walking with RJ //Stephanie Peirolo

An Icy Cold Patch

Reclaiming Fear //Magda Szubanski

Go the %&# to Sleep //Adam Mansbach

The Dunnes Stores Strikers //Karen Gearon

Déjà Vu (Again) //Cole Kazdin

Jenny //Samuel James

Call Me Charlie //Josh Bond

Modern Family //Sara Barron

Grace Rushes In

The Shower //Tomi Reichental

Cut //Josh Broder

A Phone Call //Auburn Sandstrom

Who Can You Trust? //Mary-Claire King

A New Home //Dori Samadzai Bonner

The 1796 British Light Cavalry Sabre //Simon Bill

As If I Was Not There //Peter Pringle

Ruby //Melissa Lucashenko

To Be a Boy

Stumbling in the Dark //John Turturro

All at Sea //Tim FitzHigham

Downstairs Neighbours //Shannon Cason

Undercover in North Korea with Its Future Leaders // Suki Kim

Coming of Age in a Mausoleum // George Dawes Green

My Grandfather’s Shoes //Christian Garland

A Mother’s Journey //Catherine Cross

To Face the Fear

Adventures Without Borders //Tony Wheeler

But Also Bring Cheese //Kate Tellers

Tired, from New York //Jessi Klein

An Impossible Choice //Sasha Chanoff

Then You Will Know! //Moshe Schulman

It’s a Box //Navreet Chawla

Prom //Hasan Minhaj

The Price of Freedom //Noreen Riols

By Every Claim of Love

The Weight of a Ring //Amy Biancolli

The Hat //Omar Musa

Light and Hope //Bethany Van Delft

Kidneys and Commitments //Gil Reyes

On Approach to Pluto //Cathy Olkin

California Gothic //Taylor Negron

Forgiveness //Hector Black

Afterword

Afterword //Catherine Burns

About the Editor and Lemn Sissay

About The Moth

Thanks

Storyteller photo credits

Introduction

Word of Moth

Lemn Sissay

I admit it. I’m a Mothaholic. I became an addict after the first taste and if this is your first then you are in luck. It’s a sweet addiction. And if you’ve come to this after listening to the Moth podcast or after a live Moth then you already know what’s coming.

Eight years ago, my friend Hannah suggested I listen to the obscurely named Moth podcast. After listening to the first story I needed another. Immediately. If you’ve seen me on a street corner laughing out loud or on a tube or plane shaking at the shoulders (trying not to weep) blame The Moth. A stranger asked “Are you okay?” I told her, “I’m listening to a story on The Moth”. Her eyes widened “The Moth podcast? I love the Moth podcast,” she said. I’d love to say we got married. We didn’t.

There are more stories passing between more people in more ways now than at any other time in human existence. The migratory nature of stories has never created such beautiful and terrifying formations to so many. The Moth is one of the best ways. I’d say it was a market leader if the term market leader didn’t kill the spirit of The Moth. The Moth is a migratory species of storytellers. We cross all borders. There are no visas. We all have a story. So it was gobsmackingly bonkers to receive a call from Meg Bowles of The Moth inviting me to tell a story at The Moth live at The Union Chapel in London.

Imagine being a fan of star wars then receiving a call “Hi, it’s George Lucas here. We’d like you to be in our next film.” Bring. It. On. My enthusiasm and excitement turned slowly to anxiety and melting panic as Meg’s weekly calls encouraged my story to take shape. That’s what The Moth do. They tease out the story from the teller. A moth is drawn to the light of the flame, so the idiom goes. Were The Moth’s directors trying to draw me to the warm flame inside the story?

Sometimes we are not aware what the real story is but when it hits us we know. That’s what happens with The Moth stories. They hit you. That is why they call. They wanted me to find the flame. The stories don’t need to be grand. They don’t need to be serious. They can begin as simple as “I was walking home”. One of the most incredible stories I’ve heard on The Moth is about a guy walking home.

The day came. The Moth event in London sold out in twenty-four hours by word of Moth. See what I did there? The Moth community around the world is all by word of mouth. Hundreds of people gathered in one giant room to listen to strangers tell an unpublished true story. (I said unpublished not unpolished.) This is London. There’s a book launch by a world class author nearly every night, American superstars are on the West End theatre, there’s a cookery class by a Michelin Star chef somewhere. There’s probably a Beckett play performed by Lisa Dwan somewhere. Everything is here, and yet this audience wants to listen to a true story by a series of strangers. That is the power of The Moth. There will be a story in The Moth which will move you to tears or laughter or more likely both.

I am so nervous I could eat my knuckles. The woman who created the hair style of David Bowie walks off stage after telling the magnificent tale of a girl from the ‘burbs whose life changed by chance. The familiar applause that I hear on The Moth podcasts fills the room.

You have got the right book at the right time. The book is the venue. In holding this book you are in the audience. The speakers are waiting for you to turn the page.

Imagine The Moth to be an encampment in the desert. Take a seat. Someone will make space for you. It’s dusk in the land of story. What’s happening? Who knows? Someone’s gonna stand up and speak? Something about their life – something that means something to them, something that may mean something to you. The sun dips and fires, rising stars spill across the sky like shoals of silver fish. You see there are as many small fires as there are stars. This is not an encampment. It is the world. The air is perfect body temperature. It is. The Moth is by the people for the people. That’s you.

Now listen. Look. Now read.