You've lived it. The disastrous first date at a silver lake wine bar where they spent forty minutes talking about their screenplay. The sudden, inexplicable ghosting after three weeks of perfect banter. Or maybe, against all odds, that one "hi" on a Tuesday afternoon turned into a decade of shared coffee and mortgage payments. Los Angeles is a city built on narratives, yet the most compelling ones don't happen on soundstages. They happen in the traffic on the 405 or while waiting for a table in Koreatown.
The L.A. Affairs column has been the heartbeat of the city’s romantic psyche for years. It’s a place where the private indignities and triumphs of dating become public record. Now, there’s a push for something even more immediate. L.A. Affairs Live is taking these stories off the page and putting them on a stage, specifically focusing on the theme of starting over.
Whether you're rebounding from a divorce, navigating the apps after a long hiatus, or just moved to town with a suitcase and a lot of hope, your story is the one people want to hear.
Why sharing your dating life is more than just venting
Dating in a city as spread out and atomized as Los Angeles can feel like a solo sport. You're in your car, you're on your phone, and you're often wondering if you’re the only one dealing with the absurdity. When you write your story or share it at an event like L.A. Affairs Live, you break that isolation.
It isn't just about entertainment. There’s a psychological shift that happens when you frame your romantic struggles as a narrative. You move from being a victim of a bad date to the protagonist of a story. That shift is powerful. It gives you agency.
We see this in the "Starting Fresh" theme. Starting over implies that something ended, likely painfully. But the "fresh" part is where the growth lives. The Los Angeles Times has seen thousands of these submissions, and the ones that resonate most aren't just lists of grievances. They’re the ones where the writer realizes something fundamental about themselves through the lens of another person.
The anatomy of a story that actually gets picked
Most people think they need a "wild" story to get noticed. They think they need to have dated a B-list celebrity or had a date end in a police chase. Honestly, those stories are often the least relatable. The editors for L.A. Affairs are looking for emotional resonance.
- Specific details over vague feelings. Don't just say the restaurant was nice. Tell us about the specific smell of the jasmine hanging over the patio or the way the light hit the cheap linoleum.
- Vulnerability is your edge. If you look perfect in your story, it’s probably boring. We want to hear about your insecurities, your missteps, and the moments you felt small.
- The "So What" factor. Every good L.A. story needs a realization. Why does this specific encounter matter? How did it change your perspective on the city or yourself?
If you’re aiming for the "Starting Fresh" live event, focus on the pivot. Describe the moment you realized the old version of your life was gone and the new one was beginning. That’s the hook. That’s what makes an audience lean in.
Common mistakes when writing about your ex
It's tempting to use a platform like L.A. Affairs to get revenge. Don't do it. Petty stories rarely make the cut because they feel one-sided and bitter. The best pieces are those where the writer takes accountability for their own role in the drama.
I’ve seen writers spend 800 words trashing someone else only to have the piece rejected. Why? Because there’s no growth there. If you’re writing about a breakup, write about the person you became because of it. Treat your ex as a character, not a target. This makes the story more universal. Everyone has been hurt; not everyone has learned how to talk about it with grace.
Navigating the L.A. Affairs Live experience
Taking a story from a Google Doc to a live stage is a massive leap. L.A. Affairs Live isn't just a reading; it's a performance. If you're selected to share your "Starting Fresh" story, you aren't just reciting text. You're connecting with a room full of people who have likely felt exactly what you’ve felt.
Public speaking is the number one fear for a reason. But there's something cathartic about telling a room of strangers about your worst date. The laughter you get in return isn't mocking; it's the sound of collective recognition. It’s the city saying, "Yeah, we’ve been there too."
The event organizers often provide coaching or feedback to ensure the timing is right. Los Angeles thrives on professional polish, even in its personal stories. You want your beats to land. You want the pauses to feel intentional.
How to submit and what happens next
The process is straightforward but competitive. You aren't just competing with other writers; you're competing for the limited attention span of an audience.
- Check the current prompts. L.A. Affairs often runs specific themes. "Starting Fresh" is a recurring favorite because it fits the California ethos of reinvention.
- Keep it under the word count. If they ask for 600 words, don't send 1,200. Editors see a long block of text and immediately think about how much work they’ll have to do to fix it.
- The subject line matters. Make it punchy. "My Date with a Mime" is better than "Dating Story Submission."
If your story is chosen for the live show or the column, be prepared for the aftermath. Los Angeles is a small town in a big city. People you know will read it. Your ex might read it. That’s the risk of living an examined life in the digital age. But the reward—the letters from strangers saying "I felt this"—is worth the temporary exposure.
Don't wait for the "perfect" ending to your dating life to start writing. The middle is where the interesting stuff happens anyway. Open a new document, find a specific memory from the last six months, and describe exactly how it felt when the check arrived. Start there. Submit it. See what happens. The city is waiting to hear your version of the truth.
