Commodifying Myself: What Does it Mean to Sell Our Most Intimate Stories?

It was a strange feeling walking into a local gas station and seeing my own face staring back at me from the newsstand.

It was an even stranger feeling buying a copy to go along with my morning coffee when my wife asked. I made sure to fold the paper over when I placed it on the counter, hoping to avoid any awkward looks, or even more awkward conversation.