Author: KateCarroll

The Authenticity Experiment, the Snakes Edition.  I don’t write much about my dad.  But a story in the news made me think about the best of him, the part of him that could laugh at himself and his own foibles, and taught me how to do the same thing for myself.  Right now, CES—or the Consumer Electronics Show—is going on in Las Vegas.  It’s the biggest tech show of the year, the time when all my clients are announcing the latest and greatest technology. I’ve never been because my dad went for 11 years in a row and brought home…

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The Authenticity Experiment, the power edition.  It used to be like an electric shock that hit me all at once.  Let me explain. When I still lived at home with my parents, my mother went on an ironing strike.  I mean, I don’t really know if she deliberately struck, I just know that one day I noticed that she refused to iron my father’s shirts and handkerchiefs, the linen table clothes, and the embroidered and lace napkins. Maybe my father bitched one too many times about the ironing job on his white or blue oxford cloth button down shirts (in…

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Let me just say, I know it’s been silent here, or rather, I’ve been silent.  In my electronic filing cabinet sit about 15 half-started posts and several finished ones that will never see the light of day.  Because as much as I try to live authentically, not all stories receive an audience.  I write some stories simply to get them out of my body.  Stories of heartache and heart break.  Stories of anger and agony.  Stories about events so raw and unmetabolized, that they must wait in the dark for digestion.  And, to answer a question so many folks asked…

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The Authenticity Experiment, the Whistling Man Edition.  For the record, I didn’t tell him he was making me insane.  As in bat shit crazy.  That his relatively tuneless whistling was impeding my work, affecting my friendships, pulling at the edges of my already frayed knot.  I just said, “Hey, I’m Kate.  I’m a writer who lives down the block.  Will you talk to me about your whistling?” He set down his pipe full of pot—after I shook my head when he offered it to me—and asked right away if I liked the whistling.  I lied a little.  “Well, I certainly…

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The Authenticity Experiment, the make America great again edition?  That’s right, a question mark.  Because I wonder what America we’re trying to make great again.  Is it the America where the trains still ran and coal provided good jobs for people? Is it the America where one generation could succeed, economically-speaking, better than the one before? (Because, really, that one typically only happened for white people.) Is it the America that’s been sold to us by Madison Avenue? The one where the sun shines, coffee is always plentiful (and cheap), jobs pay well, and amber waves of grain move us…

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The Authenticity Experiment, the bird edition. Last year in February, a few days after my birthday, I saw Stupid F#*@ing Bird at Portland Center Stage. I knew nothing about the play and expected a riff on Portlandia, but the play was a deconstruction and reimagining of Chekhov’s, “The Seagull.” I thought the play did such a fine job of capturing the complexity of human relationships and the mystery of the human heart, and the other confoundments we face in loving who we love. As I sat in the dark theater and tried to stay present with the 8 characters on…

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Buy a pre-sale copy of The Authenticity Experiment: Lessons From the Best & Worst Year of My Life and send me a copy of the receipt to kate at katecarrolldegutes dot com and I’ll send you one of the new chapters as a thank you gift. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming. ∞ The Authenticity Experiment, the dead people’s mail edition.  The thing about dead people is that they still receive mail—lots and lots of mail.  Not simply catalogs and magazines, although Stef and my mother both still get a catalog called, “Modern Woman” which sells polyester pants and camp…

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Here’s an infomercial before the post. The Authenticity Experiment: Lessons From the Best & Worst Year of My Life is available for pre-sale.  It helps me if you order early and order often.  The book launches September 12th.  Now back to our regularly scheduled programming. ∞ The Authenticity Experiment, the trust edition.  I am in a straw bale house on the edge of a canyon at the end of a road.  Literally on the edge of a canyon.  Look at my view.  I’m sequestered away here to write a book proposal for the next book—what we in my “family” dreadfully and…

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The Authenticity Experiment, the other edition.  You probably are too young to remember it.  Or maybe you didn’t live in Portland then.  Or maybe I am just making assumptions about who you are, how old you are, how long you’ve been in Portland (where the young go to retire).  But there was a bad time here.  I mean, afraid to walk to your black Ford Ranger pickup in the dark bad time.  I mean, triple check the door locks bad time.  I mean, can we afford an alarm service bad time.  I mean, spit on and called “dyke” right on…

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The Authenticity Experiment, the Western Weekend Edition.  As a kid, I went to Western Weekend in rural Marin County, in a town without a stoplight or a sit-down McDonald’s.  I didn’t ride the Ferris Wheel because the swinging cars gave me crawl up and a fear that I’d flip out—literally and figuratively—and plummet to my death. Strangely, though, I did ride the Zipper, me alone in a car.  A blue one, I think, but that could just be an artifact of my imagination because now blue is my favorite color.  Two of my other friends rode along, each of us…

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