For Kiese Laymon, Who Showed Me The Power Of Revision
A letter to a writer who loves us more than he has to.
Kiese,
I’ve been meaning to hit you up for a while now and have a long conversation, but I know you’re knee-deep in talking to people about the re-release of your incredibly dope book How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America. Plus I’ve been out here writing publicly about a whole lotta otherwise brilliant brothas out here harming us who should be doing better—so now, I want to put the energy out in the world of writing to and about someone who loves us so much more than so many of us deserve.
You don’t know this, but I used to be afraid of my words after I typed them. I remember once in college I finished a final paper a week early and ended up turning it in late because I was scared to email it. The professor lectured me about procrastination and everything. Then when I started writing for publications, I spent years turning in first drafts to editors.
Thankfully (or not) for my career, the turnaround time and frequency of that writing was such that I was able to skate by, but the thought of scrolling up to the top of the page, reading over my words, and coming face-to-face with my thoughts terrified me. I wouldn’t even read the articles when they got published. Revision meant reckoning, and the prospect of doing…
