Tag: Short Story

  • Closing Out 2022

    This will be my last real time blog post for 2022. I have some posts in the can that I have scheduled for the next couple of days, but for all intents and purposes, I am done blogging for the year. Christmas is right around the corner and I am intending to spend time with my family, reading, and napping as much as my kid will allow.

    Looking back on this blog, I will clock 255 posts, with a word count well north of 101,200, which means I was writing on average close to 500 words a post. I find this stat rather amusing as when I started writing here, way back in 2017, my original goal was to only write 250 words per blog. In five years, I have doubled my word count. Quality might still be questionable, but quantity has increased.

    Looking back at this year of creative writing, I have to admit that I did not get published, nor did I earn any money from my creative endeavors, which had been two of my goals. Was I overly ambitious? Well, obviously. But what’s the point in playing the game if you don’t swing for the fences? Yet, I did write more in this year than I ever have. Not only with the blogs, but I kept up my pace of journaling daily, and working on my fiction. I think what I accomplished this year was creating the habit of writing. I gave myself weekends off, but I was at this computer every weekday, putting something down, trying to get better at expressing myself and ideas.

    Maybe I’m looking for a silver lining, and so what if I am. I’m looking back on 2022, and I’m feeling good about it, which is a feeling I haven’t felt in sometime. Since 2018, when my mother died, I feel like I have had this feeling of sadness wrapped around me. Not depression or mourning, even though those two have stopped by and hung out with me often in the past several years, but a sadness that makes it difficult to get excited about anything. I don’t feel sad about 2022.

    And I’m looking forward to 2023. And that is important, and it means something.

    So, thanks for being a part of this, all 4 to 9 of you, who regularly stop by. But, before I go, I wanted to pass on;

    Watch ANDOR!

    Peach Pit is a new favorite band of mine.

    Call your mom, she misses you.

    See you next year.

  • Short Story Review: “The Other Party” by Matthew Klam

    (The short story “The Other Party” by Matthew Klam appeared in the December 19th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Do I still need to say, SPOILERS?)

    Photograph by Elizabeth Renstrom for The New Yorker

    About a month into the Covid lockdowns, so this was late April 2020, on a Zoom chat with friends, someone asked the question of how Covid will be depicted in movies, tv shows, novels, and so forth. Would there be stories about anxiety, existential doom and gloom, or would some media just act like Covid never existed? It was a lively topic for discussion, and with two plus years on now, more and more stories are beginning to show up, and try to deal with what Covid has meant. It is my belief that “The Other Party” by Matthew Klam sprang from such a thought as well.

    In a nutshell, this is a story about a middle-aged guy who lives comfortably in the suburbs. The protagonist has a neighbor who is suffering from the early stages of ALS, and this neighbor and his wife are hosting a block Holiday party at their house. Juxtaposed to this adult party, the protagonist’s teenaged daughter is hosting a party for her friends, which devolves into taking edibles and going to other parties and places. All the while the middle-aged protagonist waxes on life over the last two Covid years while living in this neighborhood.

    Sadly, this story is a structural mess, and too smart for its own good. A large amount of the prose is dedicated to describing clothing and background information on the people who live in this neighborhood. Though colorful, it makes the piece feel bloated, and longer than it needs to be, and this was a longer story. Also, the story had a point of view issue, which seems to have been focused on the middle-aged protagonist, but then the story jumps to what his daughter is doing, but is presented as happening at the same time with no explanation of how the protagonist has come to know the events of his daughter’s evening. This decision makes the story feel incongruent to its internal logic, like Klam wanted this structure more than he thought through how it could happen in this world. But sadly, the great sin of the story is that the protagonist doesn’t go on any sort of journey, or learn anything. What we are given is a character that thinks his life isn’t so bad at the start, and then by the end, he still feels his life isn’t so bad. You know, Dorothy has to think life in Kansas sucked first, so that her realization that there is no place like home has some weight to it. These three issues all feel like unforced errors, like another draft could have addressed and solved them.

    It’s too bad about this piece, as I do think we are just in the beginning of the Covid story era, which will address all of the emotional trauma it caused us. It still might be years before we wrap our collective heads around what happened. But at least people are trying.

  • Short Story Review: “Quaintrelle” by Kristin Garth

    (The short story “Quaintrelle” by Kristin Garth appeared in Rejection Letters on December 12th, 2022.)

    (Sorry, I will spoil this story.)

    I remember I was in a writing group back in college, and the professor leading the group said he had two rules that he wanted us, a group of burgeoning writers desperate for approval, to follow; 1. Don’t write about yourself, and 2. Don’t write in second person. I understood the first rule because it’s hard to be objective about yourself, but the second rule, that I never got. What’s wrong with second person? Now, I’m not saying that “Quaintrelle” by Kristin Garth is about Kristin Garth, but it is a short story written in second person. And it works.

    The story doesn’t mess around and starts off with a good hook; there is a salacious mystery, the “you” protagonist is defined, and the antagonist is also delivered as “…your devout Mormon mother, also the assistant principal.” It was very effective opening, as I knew the sides, and understood what the conflict would be. And we are introduced to the “bad girl” of the gifted class – Mavis Tate. Mavis takes an interest in you, and you are thrilled by this girl who is popular but also doesn’t fit in, just like you don’t fit in, but in a different way. The conflict is the mother trying to stop the influence of Mavis on you.

    With the plot of this story being defined early, and rather straight forward, it left Garth ample time to delve into the pull of Mavis on the protagonist. I also liked that these kids were smart. The protagonist is smart enough to know that she is being taken in my Mavis for a reason, some ulterior motive, but the desire to be “cool” and accepted in junior high is so great, that she cannot say no, even though she knows there will be a priced to be paid. And also, Mavis knows the right things to say, the words that need to be used to push the right buttons to get the protagonist to follow along. But ultimately, the protagonist knows that she is up against a force and a will that she cannot defeat; her mother. Even when the mother tells her the truth of Mavis, it only backfires. The protagonist acquiesces to her mother demand that she not be friends with Mavis, but that destruction of the friendship only creates a new, internal rebellion as the protagonist learns that mother cannot control her thoughts.

    See, second person can be used well as a dramatic device. Especially when used by a good writer.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Adjunct Professor Strike, Christmas Trees, and What’s the Deal?

    (I say what I say…)

    There is a brewing movement underway being led by adjunct faculty and students. Hell Gate ran this story yesterday about students at the New School, here in New York City, joining the faculty strike, which has been going on for 23 days. If you didn’t know, University of California academic workers, have also been on strike. For far too long, adjunct professors, basically part-time teaching staff, and academic workers, who are teaching assistants, tutors, graduate student researchers and postdoctoral scholars, have been doing more and more of the actually teaching at universities. Across the country, full-time and tenured positions at universities have been shrinking, while at the same time administrative positions have been growing. I don’t think anyone will find it surprising that administrator salaries have been growing, while faculty pay has remained flat for years. A reckoning is coming. For the past forty years, American universities have become little corporations – making money and growing endowments comes first, and education is second. And to accomplish that, administrators have to keep their labor costs low. It has gone on for too long, and now faculties are pushing back. I see strikes like these growing and continuing in the coming years.

    Tomorrow, our Christmas Tree arrives. We ordered one, it’s fake, which was designed to fit specifically in small apartments. The base diameter is like 23” and it’s 6’ tall, so it’s a think pole of a tree. I can admit that that since we put up decorates after Thanksgiving, it really hasn’t felt like Christmas in the apartment, and that’s not really surprising. The Tree does tie the whole thing together.

    So, what’s the deal with all the views on my post: Short Story Review: “The Face in the Mirror” by Mohsin Hamid? When I originally posted it, I received 11 views which, for my humble little blog, was rather respectable. In the last two weeks, the same post has received 42 views, which is an outlier for me. So, what’s going on? If people are enjoying what I wrote, then that’s cool, but being that this blog is, well, little, then I find it odd when people notice it. Or is this just a bunch of bots screwing with me?

    (INSERT JOKE ABOUT LIKING THIS BLOG.)

  • Short Story Review: “ODE TO LOKI, OR AN ABSURD GLORIFICATION OF EXISTENTIAL LONELINESS” by Gabriela Denise Frank

    (The non-fiction short story, “ODE TO LOKI, OR AN ABSURD GLORIFICATION OF EXISTENTIAL LONELINESS” by Gabriela Denise Frank appeared in Rejection Letters on December 7th, 2022.)

    (I do SPOIL it.)

    I stated that one of my new favorite lit mags is Rejections Letters, which I subscribe to, and I got an email this morning which featured this non-fiction short story; “ODE TO LOKI, OR AN ABSURD GLORIFICATION OF EXISTENTIAL LONELINESS” by Gabriela Denise Frank. And I think you caught that this is not a fiction short story, and I will get into that in a second.

    This is a confession/love letter to the fictional Loki character from the Marvel Cinematic Universe as played by the very talented and charming Tom Hiddleston. This is a piece that is full of references, play on words, allusion to Marvel movies and television shows, and even Hiddleston’s real life. I am sure a few went by me, but the language used makes this work feel like a funhouse of tumbling discovery. I wasn’t sure where this piece was going, but I was being entertained, and felt like I was uncovering someone’s obsession that had remained internal, only now being shared to the external world.

    I enjoyed how this expressed a very creative encapsulation of a person’s obsession. But when I went back and read the piece for a second time, I saw the trajectory of the work; the inevitable path that it took. How one starts infatuated, desiring one that might not be right, overlooking their faults, then an action occurs which changes feelings, the consummation of those feelings only to know the truth – that one cannot deny who they truly are – leaving one in a cold detached place. It was a melancholy arc; though as I said inevitable but not predicable.

    And then we are left with the label of this being a non-fiction story. Did the author have a relationship with Hiddleston? Possible but unlikely. Is this a depiction of the authors infatuation/obsession with the Loki character and Hiddleston? Very possible. But I was left churning over this “non-fiction” label for this piece. I went back to the title, or the second half of it, “…AN ABSURD GLORIFICATION OF EXISTENTIAL LONELINESS.” I feel like that could be used to describe that last two COVID years. Is this piece a confession of the author’s obsession over Loki which was used, or needed, to survive their loneliness? I don’t know. Maybe I’m projection my COVID loneliness on this piece. Oh, that would be dark, wouldn’t it? I am sure there was a reason it was labeled this way, and I don’t want to know the answer; I want to ponder, and wonder about it.

    (Hey! Thanks for making down here. If I may say, you have very good taste in blogs. Now, if you would want to return the favor of appreciation for this fine free writing, please take a moment to hit the “like” button. Thanks again for stopping by.)