Category: Writing

  • Short Story Review: “Light Secrets” by Joseph O’Neill

    (The short story “Light Secrets” by Joseph O’Neill appeared in the January 26th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Eric Helgas for The New Yorker

    Got another “Can’t Put My Finger on It” short story. (It’s doubly funny because hands come into play with the work.) I have come around, and I will say that I do like Joseph O’Neill’s “Light Secrets.” And I did come around to it, because when I finished reading it, I wasn’t sure exactly what I had read. “What is this?” I said out loud in my car. See, I was in the process of moving my car for the street sweeper, but the sweeper hadn’t arrived yet, so I decided that I should read this story. The sweeper never arrived, so as I walked back to my apartment, I contemplated what I had just read. And my opinion began to change.

    Though “Light Secrets” is a contemporary story taking place in New York City, it feels more akin to a late 70’s early 80’s New York – like in a Woody Allen movie. You know, smart professional people in their 40’s with leisure time to lunch, walk the City, attend friendly dinner parties, and enjoy robust social circles. I’m not bringing this up as a criticism of the work, more to establish the setting and mentality of these characters; their lives have a breath and space to them which allows for internal contemplation, and though they all have outside pressures in their lives, none of those pressures are paramount to define their being, but are more like accessories to highlight characterization. For a story like this to work, you have to believe that these characters are the type of people that would take the time to analyze and digest what their friends say and how it may apply to their life, and not just move from moment to moment.

    And with that said, I’m not sure what “Light Secrets” is trying to say, but I liked it. I like the sensibility of it. How the protagonist speaks to us like we’re a friend. I like how things are left undefined, and rough around the edges. How moments seem to have an intersection, but maybe it’s just a coincidence? Does the touching of hands mean anything, or is it just something that happens? Can a lifetime of good deeds be undone by an unconfirmed rumor? Should it? I kept finding myself going back and thinking of the old adage, “If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound?” Does a good deed have to be acknowledged for it to have impact and relevance? Is existentialism just dumb luck which we have thought too much about?

    I hate to admit it, but I am a sucker for stories like this – undefined and leading to interpretation. You know, which door has the tiger behind it, and stuff like that. “Light Secrets” is right up my alley, and I think O’Neill did an excellent job of balancing his story, in regard to the information we are given, and the information left out. It’s a well thought through work, and I appreciate that it required me to slow down a step, and just contemplate life for a bit.

  • My Computer is Dead (Sort of,) Long Live the Computer

    My computer is not dead yet, but it’s getting close. It’s a 2014 MacBook Air 11” and it has served me well. I have written just about everything on it, used it for work, used it to produce a play, edited videos on it, and who knows what else. I have had it repaired twice, and honestly; the little machine has been solid the whole time.

    But as with all things in life, it is old and just can’t keep up anymore. Pages take a while to load, that “pinwheel of death” shows up all the time now, and it lags. It lags so much. It’s past its prime, and we both know that it’s time to go to pasture.

    Though I know it’s just a machine, I can’t help but feel bad for the little guy. Sure, I put a whole lotta personification on this computer. I feel like it has been there for me whenever I needed it. Been my friend, gave me access to the world, helped me stay on track, and also helped me procrastinate more times than I should admit.

    What I want is to keep my 11” MacBook Air, because they don’t make them anymore. All MacBooks are 13” or larger now, and, well, all the MacBooks look the same. At least the 11” stood out; it was different, unique, and slightly odd. For a company that was all about thinking different, it sure wants everyone to look the same.

    So why am I going back for a MacBook Air? Because I had it for 12 years and it worked solid. And the MacBook Pro I had before that lasted 11 years. I’m not a huge fan of Apple, but I can’t deny that their laptops are worth the money.

    I guess I need to sell some more material if I want to get a new one this year.

  • ODDS and ENDS: I Hate Fractions, Breakfast Memories, and I Have a Problem…

    ODDS and ENDS: I Hate Fractions, Breakfast Memories, and I Have a Problem…

    (Three is a magic number…)

    Fractions suck. They have sucked since I was first introduced to them back in 5th grade, and to this day, they are still sucking away. I know that their suckage has continued because my daughter came home with math homework that was nothing but stupid word problem fraction questions. “It takes 1 3/4 cups of flour to make a batch of cookies. Dave wants to make 4 1/8 batches of cookies. If Dave has 8 2/3 cups of flour, how much flour will he have left over after he bakes his cookies?” Honestly, who gives a shit. Why aren’t they teaching kids to convert the fractions to decimals, because the world runs on decimals. Lucky for the kid, she didn’t inherit her father’s useless mathematical mind, and at least can handle it better that I did.

    This morning, as I was waking up the kid, and getting breakfast started, a memory shock-shot into my head. I returned to being four or five years old, sitting at the kitchen table eating Franken Berry cereal, watching my mother in her old yellow robe whisk and glide around the kitchen make school lunches for my brothers. There was a radio on top of the refrigerator that was playing “Fun, Fun, Fun.” I was trying to follow the lyric, but was confused. “What’s a T-bird?” I asked my mom. “It’s a car,” she said. “Why does the dad take it away?” “She got in trouble.” This was all confusing to me.

    I’m addicted to my phone, and it’s becoming a problem. Sure, a little of it has to do with doom scrolling because of all the news of late. Yet, I know that I am spending too much time on my phone. I lost a half hour just now, looking a videos of people signing about how awful musical theatre is. Like, I need to wrap up my writing this morning, and get to my chores… but I had to see if there were any new ICE videos. Now I feel like I am behind, and the day is slipping away. I have to put it down. I have to stop. I have to do better and more constructive things with my time. Like come up with a good button to end this piece…

  • Flash Fiction Review: “Bed Rot” by Sarah Chin

    (The flash fiction story “Bed Rot” by Sarah Chin first appeared on November 14, 2025 at Okay Donkey.)

    If you read enough flash fiction like I do, you notice that a couple of subjects are rather popular with writers; death, pets, and breakups. This isn’t a complaint, as I understand why – the three I named bring up strong emotions in people. Breakups are an especially tricky one, as the writer has to thread a very fine needle – don’t want to be too angry and come across as bitter, and god help you if you are too whinny. The best breakup pieces, I find, work in a healthy amount of humor to balance their pathos, which is why Sarah Chin’s “Bed Rot” is such a fun and honest work.

    You can never go wrong with a good opening line, and here Chin delivers a sentence that at first hints at a promise of possibility only to end with the foreshadowing of what is actually to come. Word choice, and sentence length is used here to create a staccato rhythm that keeps the piece moving in spurts and prolonged moments. This creates a feeling that nothing is centered or even fully processed; that what the speaker is experiencing still has a level of shock to it, but also balanced with a desire to try and stay in control of their emotions.

    Another aspect of the piece I enjoyed was following the path of thoughts the speaker has, and the logic it traverses going from subject to subject. From tulips, to the other woman’s name being Amsterdam, Martha Stewart’s idea of women and flowers, from the shedding of the brunch date outfit to be comfortable, and a little tulip madness thrown in. Peppered in each subject are dry comments, and observations that are sharp-tinted with a hint of anger, but tempered with humor. Nothing spins out of control, though it feels like it could, yet never does.

    “Bed Rot” does stick to a structure which dramatically works very well. Each subject change, and snarky comment is building toward the climax of the speaker expelling this relationship and its confinement to her. What she is left with is a raw, more authentic self, thus completing this journey, and leaving us with the understanding that she will continue to grow and be fine.

  • Short Story Review: “Safety” by Joan Silber

    (The short story “Safety” by Joan Silber appeared in the December 8th, 2025 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Chris W. Kim

    You know, every “time” is a “historic time” but some are more historic than others. I will agree that we are in the middle of one of those historic times, and if I am lucky enough to have grandkids, then I imagine they will ask me “WTF was everyone thinking, grandpa?” The good news is that over the past three or four months, I have started to see works of art in different media start to tackle the events of deportation, disappearing, and what effect these policies will have on America. I am going to throw Joan Silber’s “Safety” in with all of these works, though uneven, I applaud what this story attempted.

    Overly Simplified Synopsis: Two girls become friends growing up in New York, one Muslim the other Jewish, and both decedents of people who immigrated to the US to escape dictators. They go their separate ways in life and reconnect in New York, where the Muslim friend now has a child and a partner who is a comedian. When the comedian is on his way home from a gig, he is disappeared by the Administration.

    There is an ease to this story, and a simple directness to the writing. What it does well is create a picture of the modern melting pot that America is – people of different backgrounds are still coming here, and their children are still connecting with people that are different from them, and finding a commonality in our shared humanity. Silber does well in creating a context for the Muslim family regarding escaping the Nazis, being forced to migrate by Stalin to Uzbekistan, and the trauma of family separation.

    Yet, through it all, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this story was pulling its punches. There is a huge amount of drama here that is being sieved through a philosophical existential filter, but it never seems to amount to an emotional climax. For example, think of how these families lives’ have been influenced by authoritarians – from being pushed out of home nations, to being pushed together in America – and how these families have made new lives for themselves. And when a new Authoritarian pressure is applied, the characters seem more resigned, as if ordained to this fate, rather than free to exist.

    Ultimately, I appreciated this story, and Silber, for taking a swing at an issue that needs to be swung at. “Safety” uncomfortably reminds us that history does repeat itself. That immigration, deportation, and citizenship (both in its legal and the social definition) needs to be discussed and debated again, so we can finally find a way to break this awful cycle.