Billy Collins’ poem “Genius” begins: “was what they called you in high school/if you tripped on a shoelace in the hall/and all your books went flying.” Collins probably did that, and I loved that he brought me a smile by getting past his discomfort and featuring it in a poem. I didn’t just smile, I wept with hilarity at a story in a book of Reynolds Price’s essays recently. Young and wild in the 1960s, he and a friend enjoyed London night life and then staggered into breakfast at their hotel. Through his fog, Price recognized a superstar and his family at the next table. Snatching a sugar packet, he wrote an urgent message and slid it across the table to his friend who picked it up, frowned in confusion and read in a loud voice, THIS is Bob Dylan? While Price shriveled, the celebrity gave a tight smile and nodded slightly. 

Now you: Write your way past embarrassment and feel the freedom in succinct acknowledgment of one of those moments, then horrible, now just human, maybe even hilarious.