How to Survive Buying Your First Car at Twenty-Six, story by Rachel Kolman (LEARNING TO DRIVE Poetry and Prose Series)

Very cool to have this piece in Silver Burch Press’ Learning to Drive series.

Silver Birch Press


How to Survive Buying Your First Car at Twenty-Six
by Rachel Kolman

First, admit that no one taught you how to drive. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own: you went to college, won scholarships, studied abroad, but you never learned to drive. Come to terms with the fact that this is something you cannot learn on your own, as independent as you like to think you are.

Graduate with your masters and land a salary-paying job. Tell yourself you like biking to work. Pathetically stay at home on Saturday nights because your adult friends live by the good bars. You do not live by the good bars. Slowly grow sad over this aspect of adult life that you can’t control. It’s not like you can go out tomorrow and pick up a car the way you pick up a new pair of heels. You need help.

Pay a driving…

View original post 335 more words

New Story Publication: “Madder Red” in Bodega Magazine

Screen Shot 2015-09-09 at 12.24.06 PM

Please to share my newest story publication, “Madder Red,” which appears in Issue 37 of Bodega Magazine. Bodega is an NYC-based online literary magazine, published once a month. I’m pleased to be a part of this magazine, honored by the company my story is keeping, and excited to see that this story, one of my personal favorites, finally has a home. “Madder Red” deals with issues of finding a sense of home, purpose, and belonging as we navigate the beginnings of adulthood. Click the link below to check it out!

“Madder Red” in Bodega Magazine

These things are your becoming

For the past five days, I’ve been at the Atlantic Center for the Arts, at this little writing retreat thing my alma mater does every year in New Smyrna Beach. Five days is a long time to be away from your routine, to have a lot of experiences and insights, boiled down into one list:

  1. when you’re free from thinking about getting to work on time or what to wear or make for dinner, you can have a lot of strange thoughts enter your mind. Sometimes not always pleasant thoughts, but that’s OK, maybe it’s OK to think about why they’re not pleasant and why you’re bothered by them, but knowing overall that you’re more than that; we’re more than what’s in our head.
  2.  I went jogging the first day and looked around at the sky and trees and was upset that I wasn’t as inspired and curious in my day-to-day life. Why not? Why not let life be more wonder and creativity and less stress and movement?
  3. Turning 30 next year is all right. A lot of cool people are 30. It’ll be a new decade full of new experiences, and it’ll be even better than my 20s, because I’m more sure in myself now and less afraid of things. I even went to the bar by myself one of the nights, and read a book and listened to the live music, and it was perfectly nice. Even two years ago I wouldn’t have done that.
    1. (Plus, maybe you were a little afraid of 30 because most everyone you hang out with is on average 5 years younger than you, maybe you need your age group more, your particular brand of problems. Maybe you’re done working a job where you punch in on a clock. Maybe you should be thinking of the career you want to be in before the next decade starts. It’s time.)
  4. And I sort of missed Orlando, too. Missed my apartment and going grocery shopping and playing cards with my friends and talking at the coffee shop. Enjoy that more.
  5. While I do still want my MFA in nonfiction, I realized it’s not time yet. I need more experience first, more work in the genre and writing samples. Don’t collect degrees just to have them. Put your whole heart into your next project. You’ll know when it’s time.
  6. Plus, I still love fiction (I mean, I wrote 10,000 words in five days). It’s still in me, even when I think it’s not. I can write critical analysis and book reviews and personal essay and STILL write fiction. I still do love creating stories. I just need to carve out more time for it, create a space for it in my life.
  7. I listened to a lot of NWA and Childish Gambino and Jay Z and I loved every second of it. I read a lot of articles and books and went bike riding and watched youtube videos and took photos. Do all these things, they’re great, they’re your becoming. Be fascinated by it all.

Buzzed Books #32: On the Run with Mary

The Drunken Odyssey

Buzzed Books #32 by Rachel Kolman

On the Run with Mary by Jonathan Barrow


The manuscript forOn The Run with Mary was found the day after author died in a car crash. It was 1970, and Barrow was 22. Barrow’s brother had found the manuscript in a desk drawer, with a fresh page still in the typewriter.

To add more bizarro, Barrow was to be married two weeks later, turning his “save the dates” for a wedding into those for a funeral. A tragic story for Barrow, who tells a tale even more tragic, disturbing, and grotesque in his novel On The Run With Mary.

Barrow’s 115-page book follows a young narrator as he escapes from boarding school and navigates the unforgiving streets of London. While waiting to board a train, the narrator meets Mary, an old, talkative, alcoholic dachshund. The frantically told narrative then becomes about survival…

View original post 705 more words

the faux happiness of doing nothing at all

A few weekends ago, I tried a little experiment. Instead of filling my weekend with an agenda, I decided I was going to stay home and do nothing for two days.

I put off the errands I had to run, the syllabi that needed revising, the book reviews I had lined up. Just wake up, and hang out in my apartment. My weekend consisted of lounging by the pool, reading, playing video games, watching gaming streams, cooking meals, drinking a bit, and watching all 8 episodes of Wet Hot American Summer.

Getting to bed Sunday night was hard. I was restless, given my immobility for most of the weekend. I hadn’t really done anything that earned exhaustion or effort. My body didn’t want to wind down; it had been winding down all weekend already. Finally, around 2am, I fell asleep, actually looking forward to the workday. After 48 hours of not doing anything productive, I was itching to get back to things. I wasn’t contributing to society or the betterment of myself in any way. And I didn’t like it.

What I realized from my little social experiment is that clearing your agenda and doing absolutely nothing at all isn’t really as great as it sounds. We often glorify this notion because it sounds so tempting to run from your obligations. Who wouldn’t want to throw their work in the air and say “screw this, I’m done?”


But really, let’s think about how necessary that is. You know that three day juicing detox craze? It’s proven bullshit, as the kidney detoxes your body daily. Yep, those cleanses aren’t really doing anything past your daily kidney function. Taking breaks is like that: daily bouts of “nothingness” work better instead of locking yourself away for days. You detox when you try a new recipe for dinner and find something on Netflix. You detox when you take a bath and put on some Sufjan Stevens and give yourself a pedicure. Daily “nothing” detoxes are more effective in the long-run than simply dropping everything and staying immobile for a weekend. Get up early, get your work done, put in some effort, and then enjoy an earned break.

I realize that this might only apply to other extroverted types like myself.  If you’ve been there, done that, and you actually love a long weekend alone from society, good for you for knowing that about yourself. But if you glorify and idealize and always “wish” that you could have a weekend alone when you can do nothing at all, I’m here to tell you it’s unnecessary. Make time for a daily detox instead. Then get back to work and being your fabulous self.

An Ode To My Baby Blue Wheels

When I first got you, I was too scared to drive off the lot. I wouldn’t change lanes. I was terrible at parking. I bought so many air fresheners and I carefully crafted mix cds. I was sure I’d get hit on my first long drive to my hometown. But you were small and cute and gave me infinite possibility.

Like that time I slept overnight in parking garage cause I was too drunk to drive home, and I couldn’t pay the $20 parking ticket.

Or that time I had to pull over after a Halloween party for my friend to puke out the window.

Or anytime I was with him, pushing seats back as far as they could go.

Then, there’s getting sideswiped at 10:58am when all I wanted was to make it to Burger King breakfast by 11. And the lawsuits and payouts that followed.

And your inevitable death from a soccer mom in an SUV.

Both your driver and passenger doorhandles broke, making you a deathtrap nobody could escape. You still smelled of smoke form the last owner and had a chunk of the steering wheel missing and the hood bounced like it’d fly off. You were just like me – a mess but somehow still together.

Leaving random houses at 5am after drinking too much. Sitting in the car to sober up and waiting for the dew to evaporate.

The times I didn’t wait to sober up, when I should have.

Too many google map routes. Cross state marathons. 30k in two years.

4 tires going bad at once.

Practicing reading my syllabus before my first day of teaching.

Checkers drive thru at 2am.

contemplating the universe on long drives.

thanks, baby blue. You’ll be missed.