It was 2014. I was 31 years old. At the time I’d been sober a little less than four years. Several of my short stories had finally been published in various magazines, which had started occurring two years prior, when I was 29. At last, after more than a decade and seven different colleges—mostly various community colleges and San Francisco State twice—I’d procured my bachelor’s degree in creative writing. I was living in a tiny illegal shoebox apartment (a split-in-half former garage) on Alcatraz Ave in North Oakland for a now-unbelievably-low $750/month, all utilities included.
How a Former neo-Nazi Became my Esteemed Client
How a Former neo-Nazi Became my Esteemed…
How a Former neo-Nazi Became my Esteemed Client
It was 2014. I was 31 years old. At the time I’d been sober a little less than four years. Several of my short stories had finally been published in various magazines, which had started occurring two years prior, when I was 29. At last, after more than a decade and seven different colleges—mostly various community colleges and San Francisco State twice—I’d procured my bachelor’s degree in creative writing. I was living in a tiny illegal shoebox apartment (a split-in-half former garage) on Alcatraz Ave in North Oakland for a now-unbelievably-low $750/month, all utilities included.