The Italics Are My Own

Some stories are choatic. Messy. Yet the still have moments worth experiencing. Order can be found within the chaos if we look for it. The Italics Are My Own, a short experiment in form, voice, and narrative explaores this truth on multiple levels, seen and unseen.

Eschewing a straight forward arc, The Italics Are My Own eschews a straight forward story arc and asks the reader: 

"Can we find satisfaction in fragments and segments instead of a whole?"

"What is the true nature of story, if there is one?"

"Do the answers matter, if we are moved by the experience?"

By tinkering with form, voice and narrative, this novella does not answer, but presents the questions in a stylized, but subtle manner.