We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live Reflections on the literary influence of Joan Didion. Art by Eleanor Curran. February 22, 2021 My preschool years were spent in California, living atop a mountain covered by lush greenery and speckled with wild deer. The Terminator was Governor, Netflix was a small business that delivered DVDs, and strikingly unaware of the woes of the world, my greatest anxiety was of being eaten alive by the mountain lions that supposedly emerged in the dark of night. A ghostly version of California still reverberates through my bones, wraps my memories in a rose-tinted euphoria, and disguises itself as a lingering lilt masked by my now noticeably Australian accent. A place, seen through the eyes of a child, only half remembered. Everything was beautiful, golden and shimmering.