Five Star Friday's 267th Edition Is Brought to You By Emmanuel Carrère

This week's Five Star Friday is brought to you by a man who can't shake his father, the truth about solidarity, acting out of blind entitlement, self-advocates and allies, three griefs, and Emmanuel Carrère:


photo source: Dmitry Rozhkov

Everything you think is worth writing. Not necessarily worth keeping, but worth writing.
"Emmanuel Carrère, The Art of Nonfiction No. 5", interviewd by Susannah Hunnewell, The Paris Review

Happy Friday!

"A Piece of the Sky" by Sean H Doyle at The Tao of Sean:

I know that things were said to me—to my face—that to this day echo and clang around in here like bullets in a barrel. I know that things were said about me, behind my back and behind closed doors, things that I clearly felt and heard even though there was no possible way I could have.
An addict can always smell the conspiracy before the rot sets in.

"No More 'Allies'" by Mia McKenzie at Black Girl Dangerous:

"Ally" cannot be a label that someone stamps onto you — or, god forbid, that you stamp on to yourself — so you can then go around claiming it as some kind of identity. It's not an identity. It's a practice. It's an active thing that must be done over and over again, in the largest and smallest ways, every day.

"Autistic Warriors" by Lori D. at A Quiet Week In the House:

Self-advocates and allies speak in many voices; some soft and peaceable, others loud and ferocious. Regardless of volume or style, connecting personhood to autism wins every battle.

"When 'Life Hacking' Is Really White Privilege" by Jen Dziura at Medium:

It happens all the time that white people claim not to be racist because they didn't intend to be racist; they weren't thinking about that at all.
But there are many situations in which it is precisely your job to think about that.

"The Yoga Dialogues" by Jennifer Pastiloff at Modern Loss:

I'm in a yoga class with my forehead pressed into the mat — this cheesy orange mat with a giant sunset and a backlit tree branch — and my friend Steve Bridges is saying "Hi Gin." A transplanted Texan, Steve says my name, Jen, like I'm booze. And he's talking to me during yoga.
The thing is, Steve is dead.

Please come back and share good writing with us over the coming week to be featured on the next Five Star FridaySubmit it by Thursday at midnight CST to have it featured on Five Star Friday.

And because you are a fan of finding good new writing on the internet: