Category: Writing

  • Short Story Review: “The Death of a Certain Woman” by Yasushi Inoue (Translated, from the Japanese, by J. Martin Holman.)

    (The short story “The Death of a Certain Woman” by Yasushi Inoue was published in the November 16th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Molly Heng Cheang

    There are many good points I can make about how enjoyable, affecting, and well written this story is. But I think the greatest magic trick Yasushi Inoue weaves in his story, “The Death of a Certain Woman” is how he made me forget the title of the piece as I was reading, especially as I neared the climax which would lead to the death of a certain woman. I should have clearly seen the tragedy coming, but Inoue swept me up in his story, and I was powerless.

    When I finished the story, I wondered; Was this a tragedy? Was it a manipulated memory? Was this a fairy tale of classic romantic proportions? Or was this all just blunt realism? Were the gods just on the edge of the story, present but unseen? Were these people fighting the tide of their better judgement?

    I don’t know, and I don’t think I will ever know. And I think that was the point.

    I am still surprised at how much this story has stuck with me; both seeing the world as a wonderful and awful place at the same time. How we judge when we shouldn’t. How we start like someone when the give us something. How quickly we can turn our backs and move on.

    I will not describe this story, nor give any more details, except to hint at one. Inoue already told you one thing that will happen, but the rest of the story is to be discovered as you read it.

    But the one detail I have to share, at least refer to, is the amazing last line of the story. How succinct it is, perfect to the story. It embraces the passage of time, and how heartbreakingly bitter sweet that passage can be. To be the person who still remembers when others have forgotten. To wonder still, what was the point of it all.

  • Short Stories Are Worth It, After All!

    You can make money writing short stories? According to the New York Times, short story writers are selling their works to studios for millions. Finally, creating short stories is paying off!

  • Short Story Review: “Appeasement, Ohio” by George Saunders

    (The short story “Appeasement, Ohio” by George Saunders appeared in the October 26th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by James L. Amos / Getty

    How hard should a writer make a reader work? That was the question I kept asking myself as I read George Saunders’ “Appeasement, Ohio” which is a quirky little story. I’m not saying that getting though it was like reading Joyce’s Ulysses, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being asked to work at reading this story.

    How to describe the it? Lots of moving parts; family, cousins, kids, falling outs, reconnection, loyalty, obligations, conspiracies, tough love, and history. There is no secret, or big reveal in this story, but getting into the details of how this piece unfolds feels like I would be killing some of the fun of reading it in the first place. I will say this, the story did feel like it was inorganically structured to have three storylines that were supposed to weave together – or possibly not – but either way it stuck out as being manufactured rather than authentically blending into the narrative.

    What I wrestled with in “Appeasement, Ohio” was the style that the story was written in. Ultimately, Saunders’ writing style did complement the narrative. With the characters fragmented lives, a wildly unbelievable conspiracy theory, a surreal riot, and the loss of vision, nothing seemed on solid ground here. So, when the writing is chunky, choppy, even repetitive at times, it creates a feeling of disjointed incongruent tangents not fully lining up. This caused me, more than once, to have to go back and reread a section, to verify that I read what I read. For what this story was trying to express, it all successfully came together.

    But it was a bit of work to get there.

  • Short Story Review: “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” by Kevin Barry

    (The short story “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” by Kevin Barry appeared in the October 19th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Illustration by Thomas Colligan; Source photograph from Getty)

    Just about nobody likes getting older. The exception in my life is my kid, who looks forward to every birthday, with the adding another digit to her age. For the rest of us, at some point a switch is flipped, and getting older is something that is dreaded rather than celebrated. Kevin Barry’s story “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” takes a stab at this predicament, using a group of aging Irish friends, who all belong in a quasi-biker gang, as they journey to send off their mutual friend who recently died.

    The story begins with a solid first paragraph, establishing that what will follow will be humorous as it tackles a somber situation. This approach worked well for the story, which was a very competent piece of writing. Nothing got too serious, as Barry would slip in a joke or two to break any building tension. Motivations were understood, and the interplay between characters felt honest. In all, the story moved at solid clip.

    Yet, nothing happened in this story that wasn’t predictable. You knew they were going to make it to their destination, you knew they were going to say goodbye to their friend, you knew people in the group were going to have an argument, and you knew the main character was going to learn that life was changing, again. This is the reason why I used the word competent to describe this story, because that’s what it was. I could diagram out this story, it was so well constructed. I wouldn’t call it paint by numbers, but it might be two steps away from that.

    What “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” felt like was a piece of store-bought cake. Sometimes you just want a spongy, sweet piece of cake that hits the spot. It’s a good piece of cake, but five minutes later, you’ve already forgotten about it.

  • Short Story Review: “A Very Safe Place” by Rachel Heng

    (The short story “A Very Safe Place” by Rachel Heng appeared in the October 12th, 2026 Issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Illustration by Vanessa Saba; Source photographs from Getty)

    Rachel Heng’s “A Very Safe Place” is a timely story. Set in Singapore, it confronts the complicated situation of immigration; Its motivations, what constitutes doing the right thing, and the threat of punishment. It also is about a child coming to see the world for what it is, and how disappointing and confusing that can be. All of these are themes and ideas that I applaud in a story – especially one that aims to be as realistic as possible. There is no happy ending here, or nice bow that will wrap everything together. Though sober and stark in its writing, it’s an honesty that is needed when speaking on this subject.

    The story left me feeling melancholic, like there was a dark cloud hanging over all of it. Another way to describe it, is that this story is colored in black in white. Not in a moralistic simplicity, but more for the starkness and complexity of these issues presented. (Like how a black and white movie seems more realistic than color.) The good father who has to make a difficult decision for the safety of his family, a mother whose rigidness keeps her family protected, an immigrant striving for a better life, and a boy slowly coming to understand that the world is filled with complications that aren’t easy to square.

    But, unfortunately, that melancholic started to veer into joylessness as the story neared its end, which made this average length story feel like a trudge. My mind did wander and wonder when this was going to wrap up? That was due to the story playing at one dramatic note of seriousness, with nothing to break the tension, or even to play with fluctuating the tone.

    In the end, “A Very Safe Place” is another good story from Rachel Heng. Where it succeeds most is showing how the boy discovers the larger world he now lives in. Hopefully, this encounter will lead him to a life filled with empathy and compassion, regardless of the consequences.