Tag: Writing

  • Man, Am I Tired

    Not sure what happened. I went to bed at my normal-ish time last night. I did stay up and watch the Oscars, so maybe that had something to do with it.

    I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the Oscars, but it has been over 15 years since I have seen all the best picture nominees, let alone half of them. But I am a movie fan, and I like the spectacle, and it is something fun to debate with friends, and I wanted to see what Conan would do. With all of that said, it was a rather dull affair. My kid wanted to stay up and watch it with me, which I agreed to, but she was out by 9pm.

    When the Oscars were over, and the kid off to bed, I started to watch Becket. I hadn’t seen it since high school, and I didn’t get too far into it. I found Peter O’Toole’s Henry II grating on my nerves, which I understand was the point. Then I thought about watching Lion in Winter, which is also about Henry II but at the end of his life and with succession being the driver of that plot. Though Lion in Winter is not a sequel to Becket, with O’Toole playing Henry II in both films, it sort of very loosely, kind’a is.

    I bring all of this up for no other reason than it occurred to me last night.

    And this morning, I just felt off. Very tired, a little anxious, and all around uneasy about myself and the day before me. The last time I felt like this was when I was working a particular job that I started to despise, and knew it was time for me to leave. But I couldn’t pin down why I was feeling this way, especially on a day like today.

    But there is a very harsh reality with being the age that I am and also having responsibilities of my family; I had to push through it. I had to make breakfast for the gang. I had to get people up and on their way. I had to do laundry and clean up. I had to making chicken stock for dinner, and lunch for the wife. In a little bit, I will take that chicken stock and tech my kid how to make Greek Lemon Soup.

    I just have to keep pushing through, but that feeling hasn’t gone away today.

  • Short Story Review: “Keuka Lake” by Joseph O’Neill

    (The short story “Keuka Lake” by Joseph O’Neill appeared in the March 3rd, 2025 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Annie Collinge for The New Yorker

    I don’t know if you know this, but grief is a really popular theme for short stories. (That and bad relationships with parents, but that’s a story for another day.) Grief lends itself easily to the dramatic, and is also individualistic, and it can also be shocking as to what emotions and memories it will bring up. Everyone grieves differently, and maybe I was a little flippant at the start of this, because maybe my past grief still makes me uncomfortable.  Parts of “Keuka Lake” tapped on my past grief, but in the end Joseph O’Neill’s story meandered, leaving an unsteady feeling to the work.

    The story starts off with a banger of a first paragraph, letting us know that Nadia, the protagonist, has been involved with someone from a teenager to the day she became a widower at fifty-four. Her husband was killed in a car crash near a town in the Finger Lakes, and Nadia never knew why her husband was driving up there. And then the story just flutters about. We follow Nadia to a visit to her sister on Montreal, and then an early return to the States, where she gets a speeding ticket. She then looks up a former boyfriend, who is a lawyer, to take care of the ticket, and though she never sees the lawyer, Nadia engages his secretary to look into the reasons why her husband was in the Finger Lakes.

    I say that the story “meanders” and “flutters” because the story never feels like it takes anyone seriously. The tone that is taken towards everyone that isn’t Nadia is condescending and rather dismissive. I understand that Nadia is lost without her husband, and she isn’t sure how to react or behave normally, as everything has a level of annoyance to her. But at the end of the story, I can’t say conclusively that Nadia learned anything. There is no catharsis, or release, or even a realization of anything. I believe the last section of the story was to provide that, but it felt too random and disjointed, though I understood that Keuka Lake is near the town where Nadia’s husband was killed, and I guess we are all the fish in our grief.

  • Short Story Review: Two Micros by Jeffrey Hermann

    (The piece “Two Micros by Jeffrey Hermann” appeared at Okay Donkey on November 29th, 2024.)

    And these are two truly micro pieces that Jeffrey Hermann created, each under 250 words. The first is titled, “The Voice of God Gives Up the Act,” and the second is, “If it’s Not One Thing it’s a Million Things.” Both are efficient, idiosyncratic works that brought to me such an innocent and lovely feeling of joy in their simplicity. Yet each micro was inventive in its imagination and storytelling, and left me feeling better about life.

    “The Voice of God Gives Up the Act,” spoke to me about how at some point parents stop being authority figures, and become people, and in some cases small people. And also, how our children can become little deities in our lives, but they, like our parents, will inevitably transmogrify to their human form, too. I appreciated that these observations were not at the expense of the gods, but more like melancholic observations. Especially with the little drama of the small god spilling the smoothie, which provided this piece with a slight bit of drama, climax and a touching resolution.

    “If it’s Not One Thing it’s a Million Things,” struck me as more like poetry than prose, but it was prose. Maybe stream of consciousness prose? It was reminiscent of my mind wandering gently as I drift off the sleep. There is an ease to these words, and how the sentences flow together, and one point repeating a phrase, like your brain is stuck on a loop. It felt like this was the memory of a good day, not life altering, but a good day where the little things and are seen and acknowledged.

    Besides enjoying these two micros, I must admit that I was rather envious of Jeffrey Hermann’s talent and skill as a writer. In a very small package, he created two works that caused me to view my day differently, and change my mood. He made me wonder about the people I love, whom I give power over me, and how they will change over time. And all those moments we spend in our short little lives – those moments do mean something.  

  • My Least Favorite Part

    One of the goals that I set for myself this year was to submit my work to more magazines. I sent out a bunch in 2023, and sort of fell off the wagon in 2024, and that is why I am hitting the ground running in 2025. Well, at least relative to my situation. My goal was to send out to ten different magazines this month, and today, I accomplished it. Not an enormous step, but a step none the less.

    And as I was reading issues and guidelines from new magazines and journals, I started to feel like I did when I was acting, and going out on auditions – which was nervous, a little anxious, and also a touch of faked confidence. I mean I got work, but like all actors, I struck out more often than not. I accepted that it was part of the business, but I never learned to enjoy it. I have friends who love to audition – get in the room, try stuff out, see what works. They like the challenge of it all.

    For me, auditioning was the necessary evil that I had to go through to get what I wanted, and that was rehearsal. I loved every part of rehearsal. The table read, getting there early, making new friends in the cast and crew, learning how each other works, the discovery of the process, the bad days, and the good days, and that feeling of at any moment it could all go off the rails but somehow always magically came together. Not always, but most of the time. Performance was extra, the icing on the cake. Rehearsal was the fun of work. And I really do miss that.

  • No Short Story Review This Week… Sort of

    See, I read a piece that I really liked, and I wrote a quick review on it. But then I saw that Split Lip Mag publishes micro reviews (250 to 500 words) which is normally my word count for a review, and on a whim, I decided what the hell, and sent it off to them. Clearly I have not heard back, but if they do reject the piece, then I will publish it here, and ya’ll can go crazy on it. If they do publish it, I will put up a link, and let ya’ll go crazy, but on someone else’s platform.

    Anyways, here’s hoping…