“Talk Your Shit, Man”: Fred Kerley’s Advice to Noah Lyles, and to Us All, about Being Ourselves
Lessons from Olympic runners, a singular house for sale, and some exciting fall literary developments!
Avid Tumbleweed readers know I’m the biggest track fan among all the people who move as slowly as I do. I’m still savoring Team USA’s epic showing at the Paris Olympics, and trying to regain a work rhythm that doesn’t revolve around Sha’Carri Richardson’s schedule. Every Olympics, there’s an incredible footrace that I think about for the next four years. In Tokyo, it was the 400 meter hurdle showdown between Rai "King Ben" Benjamin and Karsten “the Viking” Warholm that the Norwegian won by millimeters. (Benjamin won this year, huzzah!) In Paris, there were at least four races that I will keep replaying in my mind, including Cole Hocker’s come-from-behind upset win in the men’s 1500 meters, Quincy Hall’s stunning resurgence to win the men’s 400, and Sha’Carri Richardson zooming from well behind to win the women’s 4 by 100 meter relay for Team USA.
But the race I want to overanalyze and draw too much metaphoric significance from today is the men’s 100 meter contest to determine the “fastest man alive,” which Noah Lyles won by a margin so scant it wasn’t visible to the naked eye. It was the first time all competitors finished in under 10 seconds, with Lyles winning by five thousandths of a second.
Noah Lyles is known as the biggest talker in track, telling everyone who would listen that he aimed to win both the 100 meter and 200 meter races. He’s irked the entire NBA, all of Jamaican track Twitter, and many others as he trash-talked his way to the podium. But in the press conference after Lyles won the 100, he seemed subdued as he sat between Jamaica’s Kishane Thompson (the silver medalist) and American Fred Kerley, who won the bronze. (Fun fact: it was Kerley’s foot that crossed first, but Lyle’s torso was the winning body part, due to longstanding track rules.) When asked about his chances to win the 200, Lyles said only that he was “pretty confident,” and he stopped himself before claiming that he’d beat everyone.
Fred Kerley sat there in a red hat, hands clasped in front of his mouth as he listened. Kerley is a disciplined, unassuming sprinter from Texas who won the 100 at the 2022 world championships, and then had to listen to Lyles brag about how he’d take the title from him (and indeed, he did, in 2023). It's not Kerley’s style to brag. He just smolders and delivers.
Lyles seemed humbled by the hairsbreadth nature of his win. So many people wanted to see him fail. The reporters, eager to elicit a juicy quote, egged him on. But Lyles said, "I better stop talking there." This prompted quiet Fred Kerley to speak up. He turned to Lyles, smiled, and said, "Talk your shit, man!"
It didn't take any more encouragement than that. Noah grinned, and proceeded to talk his shit. (And then he came in third in the 200, after testing positive for Covid.)
I love how this moment illustrates the inextricability of someone’s personality from the style with which they carry out their work. I've sometimes lamented my tendency to write long books and stories, when it always seems like minimalists are in style. But I'm just not a minimalist. I can't pretend to be one. So I need, as Kerley urged, to continue to talk my shit. Kerley’s statement emphasizes to me that you're not going to come up with anything good out of trying to warp yourself into a different person, a different artist, or a different runner, in response to the scolding you've received on social media, through rejections, or from people telling you how they think you should be.
A person who subdues their natural impulses because they’ve been chastened is never going to shine. Shit talkers must talk shit. It's their nature. Kerley succeeds out of speaking softly and carrying a big kick. Noah Lyles succeeds through pumping himself up. You, dear Tumbleweed reader, will succeed out being yourself, in your writing, your art, and your work, whoever that self is.
The Assorted Whimsy Portion of The Tumbleweed
Speaking of individuals unafraid to talk their shit: way back in issue three of the Tumbleweed, I shared some photos of a singular house I happened across while teaching my daughter to drive. I was looking for streets that were wide and free of creatures and vehicles apt to dart out suddenly, when I found this marvel of a gingerbread-style house. I learned this week that this amazing display of woodworking swagger coupled with an admirable lack of restraint is for sale.
It makes me a little sad that a house that is clearly some creative soul’s life’s work is being sold, but I was intrigued to get a glimpse inside. Do yourself a favor and check out the listing.
If you have $1.2 million, you could become the proud owner of a porch labeled “PORCH,” an amazing entryway, a kitchen that honors the noble rooster, and a bathroom decorated with wallpaper celebrating the commode in all its historic variety.
The Book Recommendation Portion of The Tumbleweed
I’ve been reading so many good books lately that I wanted to suggest to my dear Tumbleweed readers, and then President Obama stole my thunder and chose two of the books I was going to tell you about for his summer reading list. For the three Tumbleweed readers waiting to see which books from his list I’ve screened and approved before you commit to reading them, I’d like to wholeheartedly endorse Headshot by Rita Bullwinkel and The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley.
Headshot is a sharp, insightful, multiple-perspective novel about teenagers vying to win the national Women’s Youth Boxing Association championship in Reno, Nevada. Each character in this debut novel is distinctive, and I loved learning about their lives in and out of the ring.
If you go in for novels with plenty of humor and fascinating characters, The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley is a pleasure. In this book, the British government has gained the ability to transport people from history into the present day, and the narrator is a civil servant assigned to acclimate one of these visitors, Commander Graham Gore, who was a part of a doomed polar expedition in 1847. Hijinks ensue.
The Happenings & Links Portion of The Tumbleweed
You guys! Something incredibly cool happened! The wonderful people at Stories on Stage have chosen to focus on my story collection, Mixed Company, for an entire show! Join me on Sunday, November 10 at Su Teatro (721 Santa Fe Drive) in Denver as the actors from Stories on Stage present my stories and satire in a 2 p.m. performance that will be followed by a Q&A and milk and cookies for all. Get your tickets here.
On September 9 -November 1, I’ll be teaching an 8-week online fiction class for Jesuit Media Lab, “Writing Techniques Inspired by Catholic Fiction.” We’ll meet asynchronously on the Wet Ink platform, and I’ll also host a couple of optional Zooms so we can get to know each other. Each student will have a chance to receive in-depth feedback on a short story from me!
My face…it’s everywhere! I’ll be teaching my Fiction 4 Pack: Basic Craft Essentials class for Lighthouse Writers Workshop from September 23 to October 14. The class will run on Mondays from 6 to 8 p.m., and I’m offering it as a hybrid—you can sign up to Zoom along, or attend in person at Lighthouse in Denver. Come learn about building compelling characters, maintaining tension and suspense, and more!
On September 6, I’m looking forward to participating in the Frame Literary Salon at East Window Gallery in north Boulder (4550 Broadway), alongside writers Elizabeth Robinson and Charly Fasano, from 7 to 9 p.m. It’s free, so come on out!
On September 21, I’ll be chatting about short stories with one of my favorite short story writers, Claire Boyles, at the Berthoud Literary Festival at Berthoud Community Library. We’re talking at 2 p.m., and check out the library website soon for the full festival schedule.
As always, The Tumbleweed welcomes your questions and comments about writing, reading, taco eating, the Denver Nuggets, rabbit wrangling, Deion Sanders, and baby seals.
