Relying on the insulation of a rural Minnesota town, a teenager’s perception of her parents’ fears is at odds with her curious mind that longs to understand complexity and connections rather than the separateness and rigid boundaries of their lives. The story so well presents this tension that we read the following line with both humor and profound insight: “Before Nora was born her father had a crush on Dianna Ross.” The midwest in this story recalls the sensitivity of a writer like Eudora Welty but Capers firmly plants her story in the farming midwest. Read it here in Cimarron Review.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
What I like most about short stories is the ability more so than in novel, to lift the story beyond reality, to go beyond the grounded details of life and find a surprise, a mystery, within. Doris Betts is one of those writers. Here’s a story that really makes me believe in the character’s ability to recall faces in detail based only on hearing their voices. It’s plausible, at least in this story. The title is perfect and the ending illuminates the raison d’etre for the story, echoing a Latin phrase mentioned in the story, ‘to be rather than be seen’. Read it here in Carolina Quarterly.
Monday, June 18, 2012
This is a story about impending retirement. But more moving is the way Bell portrays the mind’s ability to shift perceptions. During this sensitive time when the elder faculty member is asked to give a keynote, he reflects on his contributions, his later years, and the rising younger stars in the department. Shifting paradigms, once this academic’s prize possession ironically presents a felt threat. Or does it? In this story the main character experiences something much more than regrets or threats from the next generation of faculty. For a moving story told with depth of internal thought, read it here in Summerset Review.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Few people mention star gazing these days. Most of us live in urban areas where the ambient light robs us of an otherwise magical moment pondering the omniscient patterns that change with the Earth’s rotation. This story turns our gaze toward the meaning of those lights of incomprehensible distance. The tendency toward vertigo is delivered with an intriguing line: “on a clear night, the sky seemed so vast and so close overhead it was disorienting, as if you could fall up.” The physics of sound and light are unlike everyday life that “tumbled along ... and traveled only one path, and petered out.” This story has a wonderful shape that converges the mysteries and realities of physics and the feeling of loss. Read it here in Hunger Mountain.
Monday, May 7, 2012
On the one year anniversary of her father’s death, a twelve year old girl and her family stay in the Communist occupied city of Seoul. The details are intriguing and the story achieves the tone of a folk tale when the food prepared by her mother seems to expand to fill the needs of a village. The language is responsible for this air of mystery and the sense of urgency to flee. But in truth the story reads as if it is part of a novel, there are so many connections and questions too large for a short story, in addition to the omniscient voice. Nevertheless this is an intriguing story, here at Kenyon Review Online.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Sometimes we dread life’s demands. Wishing away events that challenge our daily routines can consume a lot of time and thought. That’s how we find this character when a dust cloud envelops him and his truck after slamming the brakes. He wished it were a cloud of locusts consuming “whatever occupied the ground” instead of surrounding him. But what he cannot escape is witnessing is an over-turned tractor and underneath it an injured boy. The strength of the story is the close point of view and associative leaps. After placing the boy in the back of his pickup, he wants no part of this event hoping the boy would “fly out without a trace.” The story takes an interesting perspective on how he comes to terms with the reality of what life delivers. Read it here at Switchback.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
No one wants to be pitied. The two characters in this story have all that it takes to draw that demeaning sentiment from others. On the one hand, the story is realistic in the way the protagonist is portrayed with her grief and anger. Spoken dialogue and internal thought are masterly woven in the writing. An itinerant vendor of tea (this is England) bridges the real with the super real. He is magical in his physical deformity and spiritual profundity. There’s a delicious ambivalence of fairy tale that works here. Read it at On the Premises here.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The opening dialogue works with musical rhythm. Condit’s writing entices us immediately to listen to the characters as their relationship and situation unfolds. The close point of view leans well into associative leaps like the houses once were as”neat as wooden blocks./He’d made a set of wooden blocks for Olivia...”. Through the way the character’s mind works we get close to the emotion of loss and loneliness experienced in this story. And the story moves in surprising ways as it uncovers this complex character immersed in a life that always seems just out of reach. Read it here in Sleet Magazine.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
This story walks the line between fable and philosophy complete with an unreliable mustached peasant. It poses questions about the nature of love, the beloved and the lover, the object and the subject. There is an alchemic quality to the story that leaves the reader pondering questions like, what did that mean, and do I believe this story-teller? When the narrator reveals “that we are nothing but molecules of being completely cut off from each other, and that in order to make existence bearable we have been inventing fictions since the dawn of time, fooling ourselves that something like “love” existed, when in fact the only thing that exists are our skin and bones,” the reader deftly moves with her through the worlds of prosaic experience and ideas. I’m reminded of the Calvino novel, Invisible Cities, a wonderful mix of fiction and geography of the world. If you like Calvino, you’ll love this story. If you are not familiar with him, give this story a try here at Identity Theory.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Tight economic times take marriages into tough places. This marriage is no different. When her husband finally lands economic success by creating and selling Jesus zucchini, he stretches the patience of his wife. With the endorsement of his mother and church, he invites his wife to join the fold. The language is packed with character revealing description and action. The surprise at the end is well earned with a twist on the religious thread that runs throughout. For a great read turn here to Stones Throw Magazine.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
It’s a story of loss. She’s without parents since nineteen years old and family connections . What she has now is only the memory of an abusive uncle. Advice was given by a neighbor’s dad, a policeman, who counseled her to get a gun. While drinking wine, she remarks about cork: “Twenty-five years it takes the tree to mature. Then it’s stripped naked of its bark, and stripped once every nine years after that. The thought terrifies me.” Language moves this story forward with inevitability of character. She is now twenty-five. For a chilling read go here to failbetter.