My Trials & Tribulations of Writing for Chuck Klosterman
Chuck Klosterman is a writer for Esquire and Spin magazines. He has a monthly column on ESPN’s Page 2, and contributes to the New York Times Magazine. He has released three books, Fargo Rock City, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, and Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story. His first book, Fargo Rock City, is a memoir about growing up in North Dakota and being fascinated with bands like Guns N’ Roses and Kiss. The critically acclaimed Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, his second book, is a collection of essays ranging from topics from his hatred for soccer to an analysis of the effects of The Real World on American life. Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story documents a road trip across America to different death sites of famous rock musicians. The book is his collection of thoughts and a retelling of the events after the trip (hence the "85% of a True Story" bit).
That’s who he is. I am Connor Simpson. I am a grade 11 student and an aspiring writer. My connection with Chuck Klosterman is something that I am both ashamed and proud of. It all started in mid-November. I was assigned a new project for my English writing class. Our job was to pick one of three topics and do a research essay on the topic that we chose. I chose to do an essay on one of my favourite writers. After e-mailing various writers that I am a fan of, and not getting anything back, I caught a break. After e-mailing the editors at Esquire magazine, asking for a connection to talk with Chuck, they responded. I jumped out of my chair. They gave me his e-mail address and I was on my way. I had a bunch of questions thought up, but I had one slight problem lurking ahead of me.
The first thing you need to know is that I usually delete my e-mails if they are unimportant, or don’t have any sentimental value. This has never gotten me into any trouble before, or caused me any inconvenience. After saving Chuck’s e-mail address in my Hotmail address book, writing it down on my hand, and writing it down on a piece of paper, I was ready. Nothing could get in my way. I was about to interview one of my favourite writers of the moment. "This is so cool," I thought. After writing my first e-mail, it took him a while to respond. I spelt out in the e mail who I was, what I was doing, and that I hoped he would respond. I figured he was busy writing some important big magazine article, or living in New York and seeing a whole bunch of bands that my hipster friends will be telling me are the new Rolling Stones sometime in the next six months. After a few days he replied. The e-mail read, "Um ... how did you get this address, "Connor Simpson"?" not only was he questioning my motives, but he was questioning my name. This crushed me, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as what was to come.
I replied, explaining that I got his e-mail address from the editors at Esquire, and that I really am "Connor Simpson". His response was in my inbox the very next day. "Okay. Just forward me the e-mail you received from Esquire." After bragging to my friends (only one of whom had ever heard of Klosterman), I wasn’t going to get my interview because I deleted a damned e-mail. One stupid, ridiculously short e-mail. I wasn’t very happy. I quickly replied, explaining the situation and hoping that he would be okay with it. I tried to come off as sincere as possible, and I guess it worked. He replied and said I could interview him.
Over the next few days, we exchanged e-mails. He gave surprisingly good responses to my questions. I borrowed a bunch of old issues of Spin from a friend of mine, dug out my copy of Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story, and I was ready to start my essay. After finishing the interview, I told Chuck that I would e-mail him the essay once I was finished. Not a good move on my part. We wrote the essay in class, and were not allowed to take it home. I finished it, but it was no where near the quality I was hoping for. I had to take it home and rewrite a lot of it. That was my plan. That’s not what happened.
I got my essay back, and got a decent mark on it. I was happy with my mark, but wasn’t so happy with my essay. It was really bad. Very amateurish, and it didn’t show my talents as a writer as I hoped it would. I couldn’t e-mail this to him. He’s a big writer for two magazines who, if I had a ton of luck, would work for someday. I had to really improve this essay.
This task proved harder than first expected. Every time I sat down to write the essay, I got stuck thinking about the thesis statement. I wanted every word perfect, I felt like that one sentence was going to make or break my essay. I spent most of my time thinking about it, even when I wasn’t sitting down writing the essay. I spent the majority of my free time thinking about two things in December and January: how to write my thesis statement for my Klosterman essay, and whatever girl I fancied at the time.
Around Christmas time and New Year’s, I wasn’t as focussed on the essay as I was before, and with January being the end of the first semester at school, I was fairly busy with school work. Two Klosterman related things happened over Christmas: I received Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs and a subscription to Spin for Christmas. I have managed to write up to the second paragraph of the essay, but I am still lost. I am not sure of where I want to take it. With an odd blend of social life, school work, girls, life, frustration, and procrastination, I have made it to April, and my essay is far from finished. I have come to accept that I will probably not finish the essay, so instead I wrote this.
I loved Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, and I recommend you read it too. To Chuck, I apologize for not e mailing you. I apologize for not explaining why it has taken me so long to reply to you. I probably won’t finish the essay, it wasn’t that good. I’ve written this instead, in an attempt to finally be done with this. I got the My Morning Jacket CD that you recommended to me, I like it a lot. I tried to find the Hold Steady CD, but I haven’t found a store in my province or ones around it that has even heard of the band. I hope you like this essay, and I hope this explains why you never got a reply from me.
