“I believe storytelling is one of the most useful tools we have for achieving meaning: It serves to keep our communities together by asking and saying who we are, and it’s one of the best tools an individual has to find out who I am, what life may ask of me and how I can respond.”
The list of everything short I read this past month isn’t very long this time. As I mentioned in a previous blog post, National Novel Writing Month took over my life. So I only had time to peek at a few things. So here they are. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
So many wonderful magazines and journals released new content this month and it was hard to keep up. I haven’t read through all the things I want to, but I’m sure I can sneak more in while procrastinating during National Novel Writing Month!
Anyway, here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
“Coloring Book Sky” and “Holy Noodles” by Elizabeth Elliott (Remington Review)
[Note: Elizabeth graduated from the Creighton MFA program before I did.]
Wow, May and June are stellar months for flash fiction. There were a lot of contest and special issues that were recently published—the majority of which I haven’t had the chance to read yet. Here are just a few recommendations for flash lovers: Wigleaf’s Top 50, SmokeLong Quarterly’s contest issue, and the FlashFlood blog.
Anyway, here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
May was a really good month for reading. At least for me. I read twelve books and micro-chapbooks. The summer micro-chapbook series is really boosting my numbers! What did you pick up in May, blog readers?
The following reviews will cover what worked well in the books. If you wish to discuss what didn’t work in the books or what you enjoyed about the books, then I’d encourage you to comment on this post.
Without further ado, here are the mini-reviews for this month. (Mild spoilers may follow.)
Brass by Xhenet Aliu is another novel I picked up from the Bellevue Public Library. I found the cover art curious and so I picked up the book and read the synopsis. I put it down at first because I was unsure if I really wanted to try it out. But then I circled back and took it to the checkout counter. I’m glad I took the time to read this one in the end.
Synopsis from the Penguin Random House website:
A waitress at the Betsy Ross Diner, Elsie hopes her nickel-and-dime tips will add up to a new life. Then she meets Bashkim, who is at once both worldly and naïve, a married man who left Albania to chase his dreams—and wound up working as a line cook in Waterbury, Connecticut. Back when the brass mills were still open, this bustling factory town drew one wave of immigrants after another. Now it’s the place they can’t seem to leave. Elsie, herself the granddaughter of Lithuanian immigrants, falls in love quickly, but when she learns that she’s pregnant, Elsie can’t help wondering where Bashkim’s heart really lies, and what he’ll do about the wife he left behind.
Seventeen years later, headstrong and independent Luljeta receives a rejection letter from NYU and her first-ever suspension from school on the same day. Instead of striking out on her own in Manhattan, she’s stuck in Connecticut with her mother, Elsie—a fate she refuses to accept. Wondering if the key to her future is unlocking the secrets of the past, Lulu decides to find out what exactly her mother has been hiding about the father she never knew. As she soon discovers, the truth is closer than she ever imagined.
Told in equally gripping parallel narratives with biting wit and grace, Brass announces a fearless new voice with a timely, tender, and quintessentially American story.
What worked well:
It’s nice to read about working-class women—instead of say, men—for a change. Aliu does a great job describing some of the obstacles that women face in this social class. She doesn’t fall into romanticism, which gives the story a truthful resonance. While the “We can do it!” narratives are wonderful, there’s value in the “We’re doing this back-breaking work and we’re exhausted.” narratives as well.
Another thing about Brass that is worth mentioning is the dialogue. With this literary device, Aliu effortlessly highlights the complexities and uniqueness of her characters. The dialogue also generates a great deal of excellent tension. It’s fantastic.
Who should read Brass:
Fans of novels that examine working-class struggles, especially for women
Those who like multigenerational novels
Readers who enjoy stories about motherhood and family
Those who appreciate stories about immigration and the American dream
When I read 1Q84 in 2014, I knew deep down that Haruki Murakami would be a major influencer of my own writing. Here was a writer who took big chances with his work, made it really weird at times, and still managed to pull in a large and devoted audience of readers. I wanted to be just like him in a lot of ways. Since then I’ve bought many of his books and have listened to the audiobook of Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage. I borrowed After the Quake from the Bellevue Public Library when I noticed Murakami’s name on the spine of this yellow book and realized it was a story collection I hadn’t read yet.
Synopsis from the Penguin Random House website:
Set at the time of the catastrophic 1995 Kobe earthquake, the mesmerizing stories in After the Quake are as haunting as dreams and as potent as oracles.
An electronics salesman who has been deserted by his wife agrees to deliver an enigmatic package— and is rewarded with a glimpse of his true nature. A man who views himself as the son of God pursues a stranger who may be his human father. A mild-mannered collection agent receives a visit from a giant talking frog who enlists his help in saving Tokyo from destruction. The six stories in this collection come from the deep and mysterious place where the human meets the inhuman—and are further proof that Murakami is one of the most visionary writers at work today.
What worked well:
The weirdness in Murakami’s stories is somewhat of a recognizable brand. However, in the case of After the Quake, I think the author mixes familiar oddities with some newer ones, creating daring stories that probably won’t work for every reader. In one story, a giant talking frog visits a banker. The frog expresses his need to fight a giant worm below Tokyo to prevent an earthquake. It only gets weirder and more frightening from there. Now, I’m pretty sure I read “Super-Frog Saves Tokyo” in one of my graduate classes prior to reading this collection. But even reading it the second time around I still had that feeling of, “What just happened?” Now I argue that this works well because many of Murakami’s stories challenge the reader to ruminate on the presented material. In that sense, they have an almost unforgettable quality to them, which many other contemporary fictional stories lack.
Another great thing about this collection is that Murakami often challenges what a short story can be. The structure of these stories will be maddening for some readers and immensely enjoyable for others. “Thailand” is a good example of this. Much of the plot, after all, is alluded to and happens off the page. And yet the moments spent with Satsuki are powerful and memorable. The ending feels incredibly open-ended and there’s this feeling of it being unfinished—a choice that’d likely get it raked over the coals in an MFA workshop. And yet the unfinishedness of it all, in its own weird way, feels right, feels correct, and feels true to Satsuki and her story. It’s intriguing to watch a writer break the “rules” so successfully.
Who should read After the Quake:
Those who appreciate stories about people who are affected by natural disasters
Readers who like weird and speculative stories
Those who enjoy short stories that are not written in conventional forms
Fans of Murakami
When Terese Marie Mailhot‘s book was forthcoming, I saw an advertisement for it on social media and decided to buy it. I didn’t know what to expect when I preordered Heart Berries from Counterpoint Press; I only knew how hungry I was for First Nation perspectives.
Synopsis from the Counterpoint Press website:
Heart Berries is a powerful, poetic memoir of a woman’s coming of age on the Seabird Island Indian Reservation in the Pacific Northwest. Having survived a profoundly dysfunctional upbringing only to find herself hospitalized and facing a dual diagnosis of post traumatic stress disorder and bipolar II disorder; Terese Marie Mailhot is given a notebook and begins to write her way out of trauma. The triumphant result is Heart Berries, a memorial for Mailhot’s mother, a social worker and activist who had a thing for prisoners; a story of reconciliation with her father—an abusive drunk and a brilliant artist—who was murdered under mysterious circumstances; and an elegy on how difficult it is to love someone while dragging the long shadows of shame.
Mailhot trusts the reader to understand that memory isn’t exact, but melded to imagination, pain, and what we can bring ourselves to accept. Her unique and at times unsettling voice graphically illustrates her mental state. As she writes, she discovers her own true voice, seizes control of her story, and, in so doing, reestablishes her connection to her family, to her people, and to her place in the world.
What worked well:
When Mailhot’s poetic prose works, it really works. There are many beautiful lines that will stop a reader and they will need that break to absorb what was just read on the page. I found myself admiring these particular sections of spare sentences, as well as the poetic voice overall.
This memoir also offers an important perspective for readers: that of a First Nation woman who’s been diagnosed with PTSD and bipolar II disorder. With so many publishing houses devoid of these underrepresented perspectives, Mailhot’s memoir is radical and necessary.
Who should read Heart Berries:
Those who seek out the perspectives of people struggling with PTSD and bipolar II disorder
Fans of spare and poetic prose
Those who want to read more from First Nation perspectives
Readers who are prepared to read about sexual assault and violence
I listened to All Rights Reserved by Gregory Scott Katsoulis on audiobook. I was interested to see how the author would pull off a book about an able speaker choosing not to talk. As a writer, I was intrigued by this idea and how it could (or if it should) work. As a reader and science fiction fan, I wanted to understand what being charged for every word and gesture would be like. It definitely was a fascinating book.
Synopsis from the Harlequin Teen website:
In a world where every word and gesture is copyrighted, patented or trademarked, one girl elects to remain silent rather than pay to speak, and her defiant and unexpected silence threatens to unravel the very fabric of society.
Speth Jime is anxious to deliver her Last Day speech and celebrate her transition into adulthood. The moment she turns fifteen, Speth must pay for every word she speaks (“Sorry” is a flat ten dollars and a legal admission of guilt), for every nod ($0.99/sec), for every scream ($0.99/sec) and even every gesture of affection. She’s been raised to know the consequences of falling into debt, and can’t begin to imagine the pain of having her eyes shocked for speaking words that she’s unable to afford.
But when Speth’s friend Beecher commits suicide rather than work off his family’s crippling debt, she can’t express her shock and dismay without breaking her Last Day contract and sending her family into Collection. Backed into a corner, Speth finds a loophole: rather than read her speech—rather than say anything at all—she closes her mouth and vows never to speak again. Speth’s unexpected defiance of tradition sparks a media frenzy, inspiring others to follow in her footsteps, and threatens to destroy her, her family and the entire city around them.
What worked well:
As far-fetched as I’d like this novel to be, we’re seeing encroachments on free speech and the extreme side of capitalism more and more every day. That’s why this novel feels timely and packs a real punch. The world Katsoulis describes is terrifying and oppressive, especially for working-class and poor characters. Many degrading things people say in our society about the working-class and the poor come up in this novel. Katsoulis does a decent job showing the cyclical nature of debt and poverty, showing how it keeps a character in a specific class, no matter how much they strive.
The plot was pretty exciting in All Rights Reserved. At times I had trouble believing it but, for the most part, I was invested in what was happening and was interested in finding out what happened next. One really fascinating part of the plot had to do with the product placers and their stealth operations. I loved and loathed the twisted idea of stealthy marketers acting like superspy Santa Clauses.
Who should read All Rights Reserved:
Readers who enjoy science fiction novels about the restrictions of capitalism
Those who enjoy exciting plots
Fans of young adult novels
Readers who enjoy books about the freedom (or lack thereof) of speech
Another audiobook I finished in May is Parasite by Mira Grant (a. k. a. Seanan McGuire). I had a hard time feeling engaged by McGuire’s writing style in Every Heart a Doorway, so I wanted to try a different book by her. While I liked Parasite better, I think I’m too disenchanted at this point to continue the series.
Synopsis from the Hachette Book Group website:
A decade in the future, humanity thrives in the absence of sickness and disease.
We owe our good health to a humble parasite — a genetically engineered tapeworm developed by the pioneering SymboGen Corporation. When implanted, the Intestinal Bodyguard worm protects us from illness, boosts our immune system — even secretes designer drugs. It’s been successful beyond the scientists’ wildest dreams. Now, years on, almost every human being has a SymboGen tapeworm living within them.
But these parasites are getting restless. They want their own lives . . . and will do anything to get them.
What worked well:
Grant’s idea of sentient parasites that can heal people by living in their body is bizarre, wild, and extremely imaginative. It’s also a genius twist on a familiar genre, which becomes more apparent as the reader delves farther into the book.
Grant also approaches animal rights in a way that many other writers do not. Many writers consider animal rights at a distance, their characters narrating what is happening instead of actively engaging with the animals. Grant’s protagonist engages with animals and their rights directly, a truly refreshing approach.
Who should read Parasite:
Readers who enjoy new approaches to familiar science fiction genres
Those who enjoy books about human and animal rights
Fans of Seanan McGuire’s books
Readers who enjoy books about weird science
I wanted to support the film version of A Wrinkle in Time but felt guilty about not reading the book before the movie released. I watched A Wrinkle in Time in theaters anyway and decided to read the book later on. I ended up downloading the audiobook from my local library. Madeleine L’Engle is an inspiring writer and I’m glad I had the chance to listen to some of her work.
Synopsis from the Penguin Random House website:
Madeleine L’Engle’s ground-breaking science fiction and fantasy classic, soon to be a major motion picture. This movie tie-in audiobook includes an introduction read by director Ava DuVernay, a foreword read by the author, and an afterword read by Madeleine L’Engle’s granddaughter Charlotte Jones Voiklis.
Meg Murray, her little brother Charles Wallace, and their mother are having a midnight snack on a dark and stormy night when an unearthly stranger appears at their door. He claims to have been blown off course, and goes on to tell them that there is such a thing as a “tesseract,” which, if you didn’t know, is a wrinkle in time. Meg’s father had been experimenting with time-travel when he suddenly disappeared. Will Meg, Charles Wallace, and their friend Calvin outwit the forces of evil as they search through space for their father?
In 1962, Madeleine L’Engle debuted her novel A Wrinkle in Time, which would go on to win the 1963 Newbery Medal. Bridging science and fantasy, darkness and light, fear and friendship, the story became a classic of children’s literature and is beloved around the world. Now Disney is taking it to the silver screen! Directed by Ava DuVernay and with an all-star cast that includes Oprah Winfrey, Reese Witherspoon, Mindy Kaling, Chris Pine, and newcomer Storm Reid, the major motion picture brings the world of Wrinkle to life for a new generation of fans.
What worked well:
A Wrinkle in Time does a nice job of depicting a female protagonist who needs to embrace her truest self—flaws and all—to overcome obstacles in her path. It’s a positive message but, let’s be real, it’s also kind of radical. She’s a young girl who’s not your stereotypical beauty and whose flaws are things like anger and impatience. L’Engle opened a door with this novel for many young girls who badly needed representation in literature.
L’Engle’s imagination was also a joy to discover. From the “tesseract” device to the villainous “IT” to the vastly different locations, L’Engle creates a complex universe full of life, weird science, and beautiful fantasy.
Who should read A Wrinkle in Time:
Those who enjoy middle-grade books
Fans of the science fantasy genre
Readers who like complex female protagonists
Those who enjoy books about family and bonds of friendship
When I read thatMelanie Finnhad a new book coming out, I knew I had to buy it. In the past, when I worked at Tethered by Letters, I read The Gloamingfor areview. Back then, I wasn’t familiar with her work. Now I know how much of a genius she is. It was inevitable that I would preorder The Underneathfrom Two Dollar Radio.
Synopsis from the Two Dollar Radio website:
With the assurance and grace of her acclaimed novel The Gloaming—which earned her comparisons to Patricia Highsmith—Melanie Finn returns with a precisely layered and tense new literary thriller.
The Underneath follows Kay Ward, a former journalist struggling with the constraints of motherhood. Along with her husband and two children, she rents a quaint Vermont farmhouse for the summer. The idea is to disconnect from their work-based lifestyle—that had her doggedly pursuing a genocidal leader of child soldiers known as General Christmas, even through Kay’s pregnancy and the birth of their second child—in an effort to repair their shaky marriage.
It isn’t long before Kay’s husband is called away and she discovers a mysterious crawlspace in the rental with unsettling writing etched into the wall. Alongside some of the house’s other curiosities and local sleuthing, Kay is led to believe that something terrible may have happened to the home’s owners.
Kay’s investigation leads her to a local logger, Ben Comeau, a man beset with his own complicated and violent past. A product of the foster system and life-long resident of the Northeast Kingdom, Ben struggles to overcome his situation, and to help an abused child whose addict mother is too incapacitated to care about the boy’s plight.
The Underneath is an intelligent and considerate exploration of violence—both personal and social—and whether violence may ever be justified.
What worked well:
There is so much good to say, but let’s start with the obvious one: Finn’s use of violence. Violence may not seem like a good thing—and indeed, it is not—but in the hands of a master prose stylist, there is somewhat of an important subversion that takes place. The Underneath unflinchingly delves headlong into some heartbreaking topics through the characters and their experiences: child soldiers, warmongers, mutilation, drug abuse, self-harm, suicide, sexual abuse, neglect, pedophilia, physical abuse, verbal abuse, animal abuse, destruction of the earth, etc. It’s true that you likely need a strong stomach to read this book. But the things that Finn brings up are important for us to discuss and not to ignore. Finn also shows us how any person—”good” or not—can end up perpetuating violence.
Like with The Gloaming, Finn’s prose in this book is stellar. From the very first beautiful and compelling line, I was hooked. Finn phrases things in ways that few other writers can or have. To understand what I mean, you should read an excerpt of the novel or just take a leap of faith and buy the book.
Who should read The Underneath:
Readers who enjoy literary thrillers
Those who are prepared to read about intense violence
Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
“Ghost Story” by Thirii Myo Kyaw Myint (Split Lip Magazine)
I’ve read 17 books so far this year. For the month of April, I focused primarily on reading library books. Bellevue Public Library started the 2018 Adult Library Program and I wanted to participate. It’s been fun trying out different books and authors.
The following reviews will cover what worked well in the books. If you wish to discuss what didn’t work in the books—or better yet, your own reading goals for the year—I’d encourage you to comment on this post.
Without further ado, here are the mini-reviews for this month. (Mild spoilers may follow.)
Before I began reading library books in earnest for the month of April, I decided it was time to read another Two Dollar Radio book. Palaces by Simon Jacobs caught my eye right away with that startling black, white, and red cover. After reading the synopsis, I decided to give the novel a try.
Synopsis from the Two Dollar Radio website:
John and Joey are a young couple immersed in their local midwestern punk scene, who after graduating college sever all ties and move to a perverse and nameless northeastern coastal city. They drift in and out of art museums, basement shows, and derelict squats seemingly unfazed as the city slowly slides into chaos around them.Late one night, forced out of their living space, John and Joey are driven to take shelter in a chain pharmacy before emerging to a city in full-scale riot. They find themselves the only passengers on a commuter train headed north, and exit at the final stop to discover the area entirely devoid of people. As John and Joey negotiate their future through bizarre, troubling manifestations of the landscape and a succession of abandoned mansions housing only scant clues to their owners’ strange and sudden disappearance, they’re also forced to confront the resurgent violence and buried memories of their shared past.With incisive precision and a cool detachment, Simon Jacobs has crafted a surreal and spellbinding first novel of horror and intrigue.
What worked well:
There’s a slow-burning insidiousness in this novel; it creeps up and pounces on the reader in a way that only well-written horror can. The horrific components are multifaceted too, which makes it all the more interesting.
Palaces also has one of the most complex unreliable narrators I’ve ever encountered. John made me work hard to decide if I could trust what he was saying. It was challenging to try and figure it out. Jacobs also uses this literary technique to examine power from a male point of view.
Who should read Palaces:
Fans of novels that examine gender roles and power structures
Those who like fusions of literary, horror, and post-apocalyptic fiction
Readers who enjoy unreliable narrators
Those who understand the Midwestern punk scene
The title of Julia Leigh‘s novella, Disquiet, intrigued me when I examined it on the shelves at Bellevue Public Library. I wanted to know why the characters were disquieted, what would cause that. I cracked open the book and began reading to find out.
Synopsis from the Penguin Random House website:
Olivia arrives at her mother’s chateau in rural France (the first time in more than a decade) with her two young children in tow. Soon the family is joined by Olivia’s brother Marcus and his wife Sophie, but this reunion is far from joyful. After years of desperately wanting a baby, Sophie has just given birth to a stillborn child, and she is struggling to overcome her devastation. Meanwhile, Olivia wrestles with her own secrets about the cruel and violent man she married many years before. Exquisitely written and reminiscent of Ian McEwan and J. M. Coetzee, Disquiet is a darkly beautiful and atmospheric story that will linger in the mind long after the final page is turned.
What worked well:
This plot-driven novella has film-like scenes that flaunt gorgeous imagery and action. I was often entranced by what was happening on the page. That type of authorial control over a text is rare and powerful.
The quick pace lends urgency to the story and I read compulsively in reaction to the palpable tension. It was a short, quick read overall, but even more so because I was so invested in figuring out what was going to happen.
Who should read Disquiet:
Those who appreciate a gothic atmosphere and macabre stories
Readers who like plot-driven novellas
Those who enjoy quickly-paced and urgent stories with much tension between characters
Fans of family dramas
I expected to like Can’t and Won’t by Lydia Davis but ended up not liking it. Even so, I’m glad I had a chance to read Lydia Davis’s work and would be open to reading more of her work at some point.
Synopsis from the Macmillan website:
Her stories may be literal one-liners: the entirety of “Bloomington” reads, “Now that I have been here for a little while, I can say with confidence that I have never been here before.” Or they may be lengthier investigations of the havoc wreaked by the most mundane disruptions to routine: in “A Small Story About a Small Box of Chocolates,” a professor receives a gift of thirty-two small chocolates and is paralyzed by the multitude of options she imagines for their consumption. The stories may appear in the form of letters of complaint; they may be extracted from Flaubert’s correspondence; or they may be inspired by the author’s own dreams, or the dreams of friends. What does not vary throughout Can’t and Won’t, Lydia Davis’s fifth collection of stories, is the power of her finely honed prose. Davis is sharply observant; she is wry or witty or poignant. Above all, she is refreshing. Davis writes with bracing candor and sly humor about the quotidian, revealing the mysterious, the foreign, the alienating, and the pleasurable within the predictable patterns of daily life.
What worked well:
Of the few stories I liked reading in this collection, what worked well was the focus on middle-aged and elderly characters. So often middle-aged and elderly characters—especially women—are omitted or treated as a minor character within stories. Davis pushes them up to the front in Can’t and Won’t and makes them the narrators, the protagonists, and the main characters.
“The Letter to the Foundation” was a standout for me. It’s an intimate examination of a woman working in academia. This character-driven story struck me as personal, heart-breaking, and true. Ironically one of the longer stories in the collection (30 pages), I felt it showed off Davis’s true mastery of short fiction. While writing about complex emotions by using chiseled prose, Davis turns an otherwise mundane and unremarkable character into someone the reader can empathize with.
Who should read Can’t and Won’t:
Devoted readers of micro stories, flash fiction, and short stories
Fans of Lydia Davis’s experiments with fiction
Those who love books about the everyday and the mundane
Readers who enjoy subtle, dark humor
After listening to Han Kang‘s Human Acts on audiobook, I knew that reading more of her work would be both a joy and an extreme challenge for me. The Vegetarian was exactly that—a joy and a challenge—and, like Human Acts, I think it is an extremely important book.
Synopsis from the Penguin Random House website:
A beautiful, unsettling novel about rebellion and taboo, violence and eroticism, and the twisting metamorphosis of a soul Before the nightmares began, Yeong-hye and her husband lived an ordinary, controlled life. But the dreams—invasive images of blood and brutality—torture her, driving Yeong-hye to purge her mind and renounce eating meat altogether. It’s a small act of independence, but it interrupts her marriage and sets into motion an increasingly grotesque chain of events at home. As her husband, her brother-in-law and sister each fight to reassert their control, Yeong-hye obsessively defends the choice that’s become sacred to her. Soon their attempts turn desperate, subjecting first her mind, and then her body, to ever more intrusive and perverse violations, sending Yeong-hye spiraling into a dangerous, bizarre estrangement, not only from those closest to her, but also from herself. Celebrated by critics around the world, The Vegetarian is a darkly allegorical, Kafka-esque tale of power, obsession, and one woman’s struggle to break free from the violence both without and within her.
What worked well:
Literary fiction that focuses so heavily on sex usually is a major turnoff for me—especially if that focus ventures into the realm of sexual assault and rape. But The Vegetarian drew me in despite these subjects because Han Kang masterfully discusses agency in a way that few other writers can. Her choice to rarely venture into Yeong-hye’s point of view is one of those masterful choices. The other point-of-view characters—Yeong-hye’s husband, brother-in-law, and sister—each show Yeong-hye through their perspective and desires for her. It’s a terrifying and truthful examination of how we attempt to strip others of their agency.
Also, the images presented in Kang’s refined prose are haunting and gorgeous. From the nightmarish dream sequences to the sharply focused scenes, everything feels tangible and—horrifically—beautiful.
Who should read The Vegetarian:
Readers who enjoy novels that examine agency
Those who are prepared to read about intense abuse and rape
Fans of Han Kang’s Human Acts
Readers who enjoy motifs of transformation, nature, humanity, madness, death, and freedom
Due to starting a new job, I wasn’t able to read as much as usual. I managed to get a few stories in despite being so busy. Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
“Fathers” by Amanda DeNatale (Toasted Cheese)
[Note: Amanda is a good friend of mine. She also graduated from the Creighton MFA program.]
I’ve read 13 books so far toward my goal of 52 books for this year. I’m mostly excited to share my thoughts about what I’ve read this month. I write “mostly” because I was surprised how strongly I disliked one of Neil Gaiman’s books. As a huge fan of Gaiman’s Neverwhere, Coraline, and Fragile Things—and an appreciator of The Graveyard Book—I was shocked to realize American Gods would rank among my least favorite books of all time.
Nevertheless, the following reviews will cover what worked well in the books. If you wish to discuss what didn’t work in the books—or better yet, your own reading goals for the year—I’d encourage you to comment on this post.
Without further ado, here are the mini-reviews for this month. (Mild spoilers may follow.)
After seeing Shasta Grant‘s name appear in some of my favorite literary journals and magazines, I became really curious about her work. Perusing the Split Lip Press store, I noticed Grant’s collection of stories, Gather Us Up and Bring Us Home, was runner-up for the 2016 Turnbuckle Chapbook Contest. I decided to purchase the chapbook and I’m glad reading it gave me the chance to become even more acquainted with Grant’s work.
Summary from the Split Lip Press website:
“Gather Us Up and Bring Us Home delivers on its title with wonderfully knowing stories at once generous, intimate, and transporting. In her assured yet effortless style, Shasta Grant extends a hand to a reader, drawing us into the private worlds of poolside mothers, sleepover girls, men left behind. Her stories may span only a few pages but tap the range of human emotion, thanks to her gimlet eye, knack for precision and crisp, clear voice that will stay with you long after you finish reading — like a close friend.”— Sara Lippmann, 2016 Turnbuckle Chapbook Judge, author of Doll Palace
What worked well:
Precision seems to be Grant’s major strength regarding her stories. Her clear sentences and concise tales contained only the most compressed and necessary information. The result of this technique is a lean and punchy collection. You’ll find no verbose filler here.
I could also refer to this chapbook as a good example of work that fits within the genre tradition of literary realism. And while one genre is not necessarily superior to another, I think that Grant writes literary realism better than most literary realist writers I’ve read.
Who should read Gather Us Up and Bring Us Home:
Fans of very short stories
Readers who appreciate the genre tradition of literary realism
Those who enjoy reading about small-town life
Those who enjoy story collections with themes about home
The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Flash Fiction is my go-to guide for flash fiction writing. This isn’t the first time I’ve read it and it won’t be the last. For a writing craft book, it’s by far one of my favorites, and I have much respect for the editing knowledge of Tara L. Masih.
Summary from the Rose Metal Press website:
FEATURING ESSAYS FROM: Steve Almond • Rusty Barnes • Randall Brown • Mark Budman • Stace Budzko • Robert Olen Butler • Ron Carlson • Pamelyn Casto • Kim Chinquee • Stuart Dybek • Pia Z. Ehrhardt • Sherrie Flick • Vanessa Gebbie • Tom Hazuka • Nathan Leslie • Michael Martone • Julio Ortega • Pamela Painter • Jayne Anne Phillips • Jennifer Pieroni • Shouhua Qi • Bruce Holland Rogers • Robert Shapard • Deb Olin Unferth • Lex Williford
With its unprecedented gathering of 25 brief essays by experts in the field, The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction meets the growing need for a concise yet creative exploration of the re-emerging genre popularly known as flash fiction. The book’s introduction provides, for the first time, a comprehensive history of the short short story, from its early roots and hitherto unknown early publications and appearances, to its current state and practice. This guide is a must for anyone in the field of short fiction who teaches, writes, and is interested in its genesis and practice.
What worked well:
One of the strengths of this collection of essays is how it highlights the ongoing debate focusing on what flash fiction is. Here is a sampling of the tantalizing arguments within this book:
Robert Shapard: “In other words, character development is a requirement of the novel. But not a requirement of all fiction… The best flashes achieved depth of vision and human significance without ever wanting to be novels.”
Sherrie Flick: “I never understood the debate about flash fiction: Is it a story; is it a poem? It isn’t a poem because the author doesn’t want it to be a poem.”
Robert Olen Butler: “To be brief, it is a short short story and not a prose poem because it has at its center a character who yearns.”
Another great strength of this collection can be found in the given exercises. I admit some of them are more helpful to me than others, but I appreciate all of them. When I’m stuck trying to come up with new material, I pull out this book and choose an exercise to jumpstart my writing.
Who should read The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Flash Fiction:
Fans of essays about crafting flash fiction
Readers who enjoy the debate about what flash fiction is
Those who enjoy learning about the history of flash fiction
Readers who want to learn from some of the most prolific writers of flash fiction
Here’s a weird secret: I love self-help books. Whether they work to actually change habits or not, I find them immensely valuable for the potential change they can lead to. When I was growing up, my dad read a lot of business self-help and professional development books. He’s one of the hardest working people I know and I’m always aspiring to be more like him regarding my professional relationships. When I saw Treating People Well: The Extraordinary Power of Civility at Work and in Life surface on my OverDrive app, I knew I had to read it. I was also intrigued to read a book co-written by Lea Berman and Jeremy Bernard. Despite vastly different political views and different experiences within the white house, they chose to work together and create a business self-help book. The choice to put politics on the backburner and focus on each other’s humanity is an important gesture for all citizens of the United States to consider.
Summary from the Simon & Schuster website:
A guide to personal and professional empowerment through civility and social skills, written by two White House Social Secretaries who offer an important fundamental message—everyone is important and everyone deserves to be treated well.
Former White House social secretaries Lea Berman, who worked for George and Laura Bush, and Jeremy Bernard, who worked for Michelle and Barack Obama, have written an entertaining and uniquely practical guide to personal and professional success in modern life. Their daily experiences at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue taught them valuable lessons about how to work productively with people from different walks of life and points of view. These Washington insiders share what they’ve learned through first person examples of their own glamorous (and sometimes harrowing) moments with celebrities, foreign leaders and that most unpredictable of animals—the American politician.
This book is for you if you feel unsure of yourself in social settings, if you’d like to get along more easily with others, or if you want to break through to a new level of cooperation with your boss and coworkers. They give specific advice for how to exude confidence even when you don’t feel it, ways to establish your reputation as an individual whom people like, trust, and want to help, and lay out the specific social skills still essential to success – despite our increasingly digitized world. Jeremy and Lea prove that social skills are learned behavior that anyone can acquire, and tell the stories of their own unlikely paths to becoming the social arbiters of the White House, while providing tantalizing insights into the character of the first ladies and presidents they served.
This is not a book about old school etiquette; they explain the things we all want to know, like how to walk into a roomful of strangers and make friends, what to do about a difficult colleague who makes you dread coming to work each day, and how to navigate the sometimes-treacherous waters of social media in a special chapter on “Virtual Manners.” For lovers of White House history, this is a treasure of never-before-published anecdotes from the authors and their fellow former social secretaries as they describe pearl-clutching moments with presidents and first ladies dating back to the Johnson administration.
The authors make a case for the importance of a return to treating people well in American political life, maintaining that democracy cannot be sustained without public civility.
Foreword by Laura Bush
What worked well:
One of the huge strengths of this book is the personal anecdotes. Entertaining, enlightening, and persuasive, I had a new perspective of the Bushes and the Obamas after hearing Lea and Jeremy’s stories. I was so charmed by the polite and positive attitudes of the authors that I had to keep reminding myself their focus was on well-known American politicians, and that glowing reviews of someone’s character did not necessarily reflect reality, no matter how much they might want it to. Even so, their stories were interesting and their truth. I respect each of them for their abilities and enjoyed listening to their thoughts.
Another great strength of this book is the practical advice. While you may be able to guess what they’ve suggested, I would argue that what they’ve written can serve as good reminders too. It’s a great book for someone entering any professional field and I would imagine it’s great for disgruntled employees and managers/bosses as well. There is a lot of empathy in the writing and the message is clear. Treating people well is a logical choice and vital to the professional realm.
Who should read Treating People Well: The Extraordinary Power of Civility at Work and in Life:
Professionals entering the workforce
Individuals currently employed who are looking to improve the way they treat people
Those who are curious about life in the White House
Readers who enjoy business development and self-help books
This book is downright awesome. Sue Burke has pulled off a major feat with Semiosis. This ambitious novel offers risks that I crave in science ficiton writing. She really went for it and the result is something challenging and beautiful. This is the type of ingenuity I want publishers to invest in more often.
Summary from the Macmillan website:
Colonists from Earth wanted the perfect home, but they’ll have to survive on the one they found. They don’t realize another life form watches…and waits…
Only mutual communication can forge an alliance with the planet’s sentient species and prove that humans are more than tools.
What worked well:
Burke’s sheer imaginative power in this novel is fantastic. Imagine what mixing up Little Shop of Horrors, Vaster Than Empires and More Slow, Paradises Lost, and Where Late The Sweet Birds Sang could produce and you have something close to Semiosis. But of course it’s more complex than just combining other stories together and that’s what I love about it. The ideas presented in the text are thought-provoking and worth meditating on. The cast of characters—not all human—were intriguing and complex. And the imperfectness of humanity is sharply contrasted with what we as humans may think are our best qualities.
Complex characters struggling to survive in an unfamiliar and often hostile environment is right up my reader alley. There were many times I thought the characters were going to end up one-sided in this novel and then Burke threw me a curveball and the characters were not so simple anymore. That is difficult to do with a single character. But Burke does it with many different characters and in multiple generations. I really enjoyed each narrator’s perspective along with their interactions with other characters.
Who should read Semiosis:
Fans of Ursula K. Le Guin and Kate Wilhelm
Readers who enjoy complex examinations of sentience, colonization, and human subservience
Fans of multi-generational novels
Those who appreciate character-driven novels
While I was surprised how much I dislikedAmerican Gods, there are definitely things that Neil Gaiman did well in the writing. If this novel doesn’t suit your fancy, I’d recommend trying some of his other books.
Summary from the Macmillan website:
It has been a decade since #1 New York Times bestselling author Neil Gaiman (Sandman, Anansi Boys, The Graveyard Book) rocked the literary world with American Gods—his breathtaking tale of the war on Earth between old gods and new. For those who have yet to experience Gaiman’s bestselling tour de force—a novel USA Today called “a powerful, searing force that makes readers confront what is real and what is not”—and for those eager to enter this astonishing world again, comes the Author’s Preferred Text 10th Anniversary Edition. Winner of the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, and Bram Stoker Awards, with a special introduction by the author, this is American Gods as Neil Gaiman always meant it to be.
What worked well:
One of the things that worked in American Gods is how Gaiman contests the “founding of America” through the “coming to America” sections. These sections also work to showcase some of the diversity of the American people and the myths we build for ourselves. Often, these side narratives are more interesting than what is happening in the main story.
Another intriguing concept presented in this novel is how Gaiman shows most of the gods in a weakened state. Not so glorious and mighty, most of the gods are struggling to survive. Humans have a lot of say in the fate of the old and new pantheons. That’s a lot of power for mortals to wield against typically mighty beings.
Who should read American Gods:
Fans of Norse mythology and other mythologies
Readers who enjoy themes about life and death
Those who appreciate stories about fantasy and reality colliding
Readers who enjoy stories about road trips in America
Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list. Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
Here is the list of everything short I read this past month. I’m going to cheat this time and include some nonfiction and poetry with the flash fiction and short stories. Please remember: this list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list.
Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
“Paper Shackles” by Sean Enfield (Lunch Ticket)
[Note: I worked with Sean—namely, performed some minor edits—on his piece “Colorblind Passengers,” which was printed in F(r)Online.]
With eight books now read, I am closer to my goal of reading 52 books this year. For the short month of February, I decided to check out the collected novellas of Ursula K. Le Guin and revisit some of the books I read in college.
The following reviews will cover what worked well in the books. If you wish to discuss what didn’t work in the books—or better yet, your own reading goals for the year—I’d encourage you to comment on this post.
Without further ado, here are the mini-reviews for this month. (Mild spoilers may follow.)
With Ursula K. Le Guin‘s passing, I felt the need to read her collected novellas as an act of mourning. She was such a talented writer and the breadth of her work could not be contained by any one genre.
Summary from the Simon & Schuster website:
Ursula K. Le Guin has won multiple prizes and accolades from the Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters to the Newbery Honor, the Nebula, Hugo, World Fantasy, and PEN/Malamud Awards. She has had her work collected over the years, but never as a complete retrospective of her longer works as represented in the wonderful The Found and the Lost.
Includes: -Vaster Than Empires and More Slow -Buffalo Gals, Won’t You Come Out Tonight -Hernes -The Matter of Seggri -Another Story or a Fisherman of the Inland Sea -Forgiveness Day -A Man of the People -A Woman’s Liberation -Old Music and the Slave Women -The Finder -On the High Marsh -Dragonfly -Paradises Lost
This collection is a literary treasure chest that belongs in every home library.
What worked well:
My favorite novellas in this collection: “Vaster Than Empires and More Slow,” “Buffalo Gals, Won’t You Come Out Tonight,” “Hernes,” “Another Story or a Fisherman of the Inland Sea,” and “A Woman’s Liberation.” However, I can find something, if not multiple things, I like about all of the novellas.
Le Guin was a master world builder, creating astonishing depth in any place she presented to the reader. The planets, cities, islands, etc. all feel alive with their own histories and rules.
Le Guin’s characters are what drive these novellas. Like her world-building, the characters are well crafted and multi-dimensional. They all have their own unique voices and desires. I found that I was invested in their journeys even when their stories covered long periods of time.
Who should read The Found and the Lost:
Readers who enjoy novellas of different genres
Fans of the best-known science-fiction and fantasy magazines
Readers who enjoy wise political commentary in entertaining fiction
Those who enjoy novellas that cover long periods of time
I read Our Sister Killjoy in college and remembered nothing about it. I decided to give Ama Ata Aidoo‘s work another try and, while not my favorite book, I am glad I reread it.
Summary from the Pearson website:
A profound version of the theme of self discovery, this novel explores the thoughts and experiences of a Ghanaian girl on her travels in Europe.
What worked well:
Our Sister Killjoy‘s best moments come with its zingers: the one-two-punches in the prose and poetry about racism, imperialism, sexism, and oppression. In many ways, this book is an effective examination of certain European nations through the eyes of a Ghanaian girl.
The most memorable section of this book is titled, “The Plums.” This is where the characters and the setting feel most concrete. This section follows Sissie’s brief relationship with Marija. It contains a very important part of the plot. There are also lovely descriptions of the setting.
Who should read Our Sister Killjoy:
Those who enjoy prose and poetry together
Readers who enjoy in-depth examinations of Europe’s impact on different parts of Africa
Fans of the Longman African Writer’s series
Those who enjoy books about women and their complicated relationships
Your Name Shall Be Tanga by Calixthe Beyala is another novel I read in college. This one was difficult to read again, as it deals with extremely heavy subject matter not for the faint of heart.
Summary from the Barnes & Noble website:
This is the story of two female prisoners who become spiritually linked. One is labelled mad the other a counterfeiter. One is of French-Jewish origin, the other African. Their solidarity intensifies as prison life deteriorates. Calixthe Beyala underlines the solidarity that unites women across racial, religious, class and national lines in this novel about a young woman dying in a West African prison cell.
What worked well:
The prose of this novel is incredibly lyrical at times. The beauty of the prose does a great deal to add balance to the book, especially when there are terrible things happening in the plot almost constantly.
The novel does an excellent job examining sexism, privilege, family obligations, societal obligations, and racism through the lens of two women and their relationship.
Who should read Your Name Shall Be Tanga:
Fans of the African Writers Series
Those who enjoy books about women and their complicated relationships
Fans of lyrical prose
Readers who can stomach intense violence
Passing is another book I read in college and it’s one of my favorites of all time. I’m convinced Nella Larsen was one of the best writers of the Harlem Renaissance.
Summary from the Penguin Random House website:
Nella Larsen’s powerful, thrilling, and tragic tale about the fluidity of racial identity that continues to resonate today. A New York Times Editors’ Choice
Clare Kendry is living on the edge. Light-skinned, elegant, and ambitious, she is married to a racist white man unaware of her African American heritage, and has severed all ties to her past after deciding to “pass” as a white woman. Clare’s childhood friend, Irene Redfield, just as light-skinned, has chosen to remain within the African American community, and is simultaneously allured and repelled by Clare’s risky decision to engage in racial masquerade for personal and societal gain. After frequenting African American-centric gatherings together in Harlem, Clare’s interest in Irene turns into a homoerotic longing for Irene’s black identity that she abandoned and can never embrace again, and she is forced to grapple with her decision to pass for white in a way that is both tragic and telling. This edition features a new introduction by Emily Bernard and notes by Thadious M. Davis.
What worked well:
Larsen’s protagonist and antagonist are brilliant foil characters. Irene and Clare are wicked interesting and women with powerful desires. The tension between them is fantastic and their feud is one of my favorites in any novel.
Passing has one of the most entertaining plots I’ve ever read. It far surpasses the plot of The Great Gatsby, for example. The ending blows my mind every time I read it.
Who should read Passing:
Readers who love the Harlem Renaissance
Those who love exciting plots
Readers who appreciate examinations of race and sex in America
Those who enjoy books about women and their complicated relationships
Hey, everyone! How is your New Year going? Are those resolutions a habit yet or are they falling by the wayside? What goals have you made for your writing or reading this year?
One of my less rigid goals for 2018 was to read more flash fiction and short stories. I figure it’s cooler to read and share, so these monthly posts will cover all of the individual pieces that I’ve read in a 28+ day period. This list is not necessarily meant to act as a review, a show of favor, or a “best of” list—so please keep that in mind when I’m sharing these stories. Hopefully, my resolution to do this will become a habit and not fall by the wayside. 🙂
Feel free to share your own findings in the comments!
“Something Elemental” by Alyssa Jordan (CHEAP POP)
[Note: Alyssa works for Tethered by Letters, where I volunteer.]
For 2018, I hope to read at least 52 books by the end of the year. This may seem like a low goal, so it may also come as a surprise to you that I’m a slow reader, considering how much I read. However, my undergraduate and graduate courses have helped me nail the novel-per-week schedule in the past, so I think 52 books is doable for me.
At the end of the month, as a response to each book, I plan to write mini-reviews. The reviews will consist of mainly what worked and links to the book. If you wish to discuss what didn’t work in the novel—or better yet, your own reading goals for the year—I’d encourage you to comment on this post.
Without further ado, here are the mini-reviews for this month. (Mild spoilers may follow.)
How could a dystopian junkie pass upThe Salt Line? I couldn’t of course.Holly Goddard Joneshad me at deadly ticks and outdoor excursions.
Summary from the Penguin Random House website:
In the spirit of Station Eleven and California, award-winning novelist Holly Goddard Jones offers a literary spin on the dystopian genre with this gripping story of survival and humanity about a group of adrenaline junkies who jump “the Salt Line.”How far will they go for their freedom—once they decide what freedom really means?In an unspecified future, the United States’ borders have receded behind a salt line—a ring of scorched earth that protects its citizens from deadly disease-carrying ticks. Those within the zone live safe, if limited, lives in a society controlled by a common fear. Few have any reason to venture out of zone, except for the adrenaline junkies who pay a fortune to tour what’s left of nature. Those among the latest expedition include a popstar and his girlfriend, Edie; the tech giant Wes; and Marta; a seemingly simple housewife. Once out of zone, the group find themselves at the mercy of deadly ticks—and at the center of a murderous plot. They become captives in Ruby City, a community made up of outer-zone survivors determined to protect their hardscrabble existence. As alliances and friendships shift amongst the hostages, Edie, Wes, and Marta must decide how far they are willing to go to get to the right side of the salt line.
What worked well:
The characters were a major strength of this novel. They felt like real people with their own complicated flaws and desires. Even many of the minor characters were mostly rounded out by the end of the novel. When the text shifts to a different character’s perspective, I was always clear about who the narrator was because all of the characters were distinct.
The world building was pretty spot on too. I could see the characters putting on their micro-suits, obsessing over their tablets, “stamping” their legs after a tick bite. I could feel the Terra-Vibra from Atlantic Zone’s massive wall buzzing in my chest and the jolts of the vehicle-jostling potholes on the roads outside the zones. The quick pace and quality prose helped to prevent reader doubt as well.
Who should read The Salt Line:
Fans of California
Those who like literary fiction and dystopia
Readers who don’t need clear heroes and villains
Those who enjoy novels with themes about motherhood
Seeing the title Idahoon a book jacket while walking around my local Barnes & Noble piqued my interest immediately. I know little about the state and jumped at the chance to see it portrayed in fiction. Emily Ruskovich doesn’t disappoint with this interesting novel.
Summary from the Penguin Random House website:
A stunning debut novel about love and forgiveness, about the violence of memory and the equal violence of its loss—from O. Henry Prize–winning author Emily Ruskovich
Ann and Wade have carved out a life for themselves from a rugged landscape in northern Idaho, where they are bound together by more than love. With her husband’s memory fading, Ann attempts to piece together the truth of what happened to Wade’s first wife, Jenny, and to their daughters. In a story written in exquisite prose and told from multiple perspectives—including Ann, Wade, and Jenny, now in prison—we gradually learn of the mysterious and shocking act that fractured Wade and Jenny’s lives, of the love and compassion that brought Ann and Wade together, and of the memories that reverberate through the lives of every character in Idaho.
In a wild emotional and physical landscape, Wade’s past becomes the center of Ann’s imagination, as Ann becomes determined to understand the family she never knew—and to take responsibility for them, reassembling their lives, and her own.
What worked well:
The prose is by far the star of this novel. Beautifully crafted sentences flow seamlessly into one another. At times it feels poetic, other times it’s simple but powerful prose. What blew me away was how often Ruskovich used “to be” verbs while still making the prose feel strong and active.
To say the novel is mainly about a state would be incorrect. However, Ruskovich’s descriptions of the settings (Idaho’s plains, mountains, cities, towns, and even the prison) makes the world of this book feel alive and tangible. Ruskovich’s use of sensory details, along with an occasional focus on insect, plant, and animal life, helps to bring color to the landscape. The tidbits of state history added in also works well.
Who should read Idaho:
Those who appreciate excellently crafted prose
Readers who don’t mind a slow rate of revelation
Those who enjoy novels with themes about loss of innocence
Fans of books about families and what makes up a family
I’m always looking to read another Two Dollar Radio book after first falling in love with The Gloaming by Melanie Finn. I bought Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib‘s collection of essays, They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, from the small press. Abdurraqib is a genius writer from my home state of Ohio and his essay collection is arguably one of the most important essay collections ever written—especially when considering the political climate of recent years.
Summary from the Two Dollar Radio website:
In an age of confusion, fear, and loss, Hanif Abdurraqib’s is a voice that matters. Whether he’s attending a Bruce Springsteen concert the day after visiting Michael Brown’s grave, or discussing public displays of affection at a Carly Rae Jepsen show, he writes with a poignancy and magnetism that resonates profoundly.
In the wake of the nightclub attacks in Paris, he recalls how he sought refuge as a teenager in music, at shows, and wonders whether the next generation of young Muslims will not be afforded that opportunity now. While discussing the everyday threat to the lives of black Americans, Abdurraqib recounts the first time he was ordered to the ground by police officers: for attempting to enter his own car.
In essays that have been published by the New York Times, MTV, and Pitchfork, among others—along with original, previously unreleased essays—Abdurraqib uses music and culture as a lens through which to view our world, so that we might better understand ourselves, and in so doing proves himself a bellwether for our times.
What worked well:
At the beginning of the book, there is a quote from Kiese Laymon. The quote states that, “No writer alive writes first and last sentences like Hanif.” I would wholeheartedly agree. Also a poet, Abdurraqib does not waste words and often writes with a noticeable cadence. The products of his careful construction, of close attention to rhythm and strategic repetition, are superb sentences with enduring impact. Add this with how he plays with form—fragments and sentences connected by ampersands, sentences left without periods—and the reader is given a style of writing that compliments the songs and subjects of Abdurraqib’s essays.
Abdurraqib also has a natural talent for unpacking important topics like racism, death, and inclusion. His ability to focus on these often abstract concepts and pinpoint how these things act upon all of us, particularly the marginalized groups within the United States, makes this collection of essays incredibly important.
Who should read They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us:
Every person in the United States, especially Midwesterners, especially Ohioans
Fans of music and the history of music (check out a tribute playlist here)
Those who love books about social justice
Readers who enjoy essays that play with form
Much of my own published writing is flash fiction, so it only makes sense for me to read and learn from some of the best writers in the field. I practically vibrated with excitement when I cracked open The Best Small Fictions 2017 and began to read. This series underwent major changes this past year and it’s great to know that editor Tara L. Masih and team fought so hard to make sure it continued.
Summary from the Braddock Avenue Books website:
The Best Small Fictions is the first contemporary anthology solely devoted to honoring the best short hybrid fiction published in a calendar year. The series began in 2015, featuring seasoned and emerging writers. Flash, micro fiction, prose poetry, and haibun stories are just some examples of the hybrid forms honored. Tara L. Masih founded the annual series and serves as series editor; guest editors include Pulitzer Prize–winning author Robert Olen Butler (2015), PEN/Malamud Award winner and O. Henry Prize winner Stuart Dybek (2016), and Rea Award and PEN/Malamud Award winner Amy Hempel (2017).
What worked well:
It’s always wonderful to read work by writers you look up to. I was thrilled to see stories in here by Kathy Fish, Sherrie Flick, Stuart Dybek, Pamela Painter, and Tara Laskowski. I also found some new favorites in Harriot West, William Woolfitt, Jen Knox, Joy Katz, Allegra Hyde, Lydia Armstrong, W. Todd Kaneko, Gina Del Raye, Cameron Quincy Todd, Na’amen Gobert Tilahun, and the late Brian Doyle. I was pleasantly surprised by Ras Mashramani’s story “Silent Hill,” which of course refers to the PlayStation video game. Overall, the writers gave me a lot to aspire to with their imaginative and potent stories.
In addition, I appreciated how The Best Small Fictions 2017 honored different forms of short fiction. My personal favorite was the haibun by Harriot West, “Picking Sunflowers for Van Gogh.” It made me instantly curious about the history of the form. It also made me want to try and write one.
Who should read The Best Small Fictions 2017:
Anyone who appreciates flash fiction and its many forms
Those who want quick stories that reference the madness that was 2017
“Don’t try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It’s the one and only thing you have to offer.”
– Barbara Kingsolver
Meredith Spears, an MFA candidate at Creighton University, was kind enough to take some time to talk to us about writing, the publication process, and her new romantic suspense novel, The Mood for Trouble.
The 2016 Blue River Editors’ prize for creative nonfiction went to Chloe Livaudais’ essay “Lazy Eye.” In her essay, our editors found a mixture of powerful storytelling and craft. Livaudais takes us into memory and, at the same time, weaves a sense of the present in an imperative second person voice. Chloe Livaudais kindly took some time to answer some questions for us.
What a rough year 2016 was—the countless deaths of our favoriteauthors, actors, and musicians; wars at home and abroad; Brexit; not to mention our own mind-boggling politicalelection. We still have books, though, and thank goodness for that. I read all over the literary map for work, school, and pleasure, and have come up with ten novels, broken into three categories, that sustained me this year:
Adult Novels
Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi (Knopf, 2016): I listened to Gyasi’s novel via audiobook before I knew about the book’s hype and Gyasi’s growing fan base. Dani Hedlund featured Gyasi’s novel in F(r)iction #5, where I am a junior editor. However, I was reading Homegoing before I knew about the feature. The novel’s characters and strong voice drew me in immediately. The way Gyasi manages time and multiple generations is also rather wonderful.
Another month gone by, another leap into the wealth of excellent speculative short fiction available online. There are so many wonderful websites and zines that publish short fiction these days: support the ones you like. Subscribe, use Patreon, buy single issues… it makes a difference to the sites and zines, and it makes a difference for the writers, too.
Here we go: 11 wondrous speculative fiction stories I read this past month.
Man of the House, by Pamela Ferguson in Daily Science Fiction. “Our man is not producing any energy. There is no electricity to power the house. Nothing works.” This is a fabulous short-short story that is so deceptively simple in its construction, and so completely brilliant. If you want to read a story that demonstrates how you can completely twist a story sideways with one sentence (I actually gasped), then this story is for you.
Creighton grad students and the Blue River team alike are having plenty of success this summer, and the good news continues this month with two publications from staff members at the journal!