Tag: Writing

  • Short Story Review: “The Spit of Him” by Thomas Korsgaaed (Translated from the Danish by Martin Aitken.)

    (The short story “The Spit of Him” by Thomas Korsgaaed appeared in the March 4th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Henning Wagenbreth

    “The Spit of Him” by Thomas Korsgaaed is a competent story. I believe that it accomplishes what is was created to do – fulfills its purpose of being – puts forth an idea and illuminates on it. Yet, it just didn’t feel like it came together.

    In short; Kevin, a ten-year-old from the wrong side of town, walks to the right side of town during a rain storm to sell stickers door to door. Kevin comes to a home wherein the couple that lives there knows who Kevin’s father is, a local drunk, and what Kevin’s father has done, had some sort of accident with a car while eneberated. The man plays and toys with Kevin, insulting the boy, which Kevin doesn’t fully pick up on, while the woman tries to shield Kevin from this form of shaming. In the end, the man gives Kevin a large amount of money for the stickers and sends him on his way.

    I say that the story accomplishes what it was after, as it makes it’s points about class, money, generational shame, moral superiority, the lack of understanding, and societal bullying. How some people think they can get away with abusing others, and then pay them off and all is forgiven. I even understand the shame that Kevin feels, and the conflicted emotions with being given money by someone who insulted him. I see all of that, and those issues are important.

    But I am still left with the feeling that it didn’t all come together, and that’s what I am still puzzling over. I think the short quick answer is that no one learns anything in the story – the status quo continues. The man doesn’t change, he still feels morally superior. The woman, though annoyed at the man’s actions, isn’t going anywhere either. That leaves Kevin, and though he contemplates how much rain makes a flood as he waits out the storm in a graffiti covered bus shelter, he doesn’t display gaining a new understanding which would allow him to return home changed.

    That just makes this a story about a “happening” between characters.

  • The Nap Backfired!

    I just want to sleep forever somedays.

    I just took a fifteen-minute power nap, which normally does the truck of zapping me back to normal. But today, my nap back fired in my face.

    I didn’t get a great night of sleep, and I was up early as the kid needed to be at school early. Then there was alt side parking, and grocery shopping, and I made lunch for me and the wife.

    As I sat on the couch to eat with her; WOOSH! All my energy just sloughed off and out the door.

    Thus, I thought the power nap would do the trick.

    Now, I’m just sitting on my bed, forcing this out because I will stick to my… Habit? Routine? Goal? I can’t even think of the word that I want to use…

    Anyway… I just have the foggy head, and everything seems a little far out of reach.

    I am beginning to see that Mondays and Tuesdays are difficult days for me to do all the chores, blog, journal, write and read. Something has to give, and I always pick working on fiction as the disposable one.  I’m not sure what that says about me? Or if maybe it says nothing about me and I’m just over thinking everything? Should I forgive myself, and try again tomorrow? Or is this one of those “you only got one shot at this life, don’t waste it,” moments?

    I should do dishes and pick up the kid from school.

  • Nothing in Particular

    It would be easy to write something about Valentine’s Day. I could put something down about my amazing and wonderful wife. I could write a quick whim about my daughter and her excitement this year of buying cards for us, and her school party. That would clearly be the easy choice.

    I could also talk about the anniversary of the Pale Blue Dot photograph, but honestly, there is no way to top let alone approach what Carl Sagan already wrote about it.

    I even thought about working on something about a couple of new bands that I have started listening to of late: The Hails, Sure Sure, and Kid Bloom. But I have never felt very confident in writing about music.

    What I am is wishy-washy today.

    I spent a good hour at a local coffee shop this morning after dropping off the kid at school, just writing in my journal, and that kind’a zapped me. Which sucks, because I have a good bit of free time today, and there are several things I want to work on. So, I need to push through this block. I’m at 186 words before I started this sentence, and I aim for at least 250 for a post, which means I’m closing in on my goal.

    And I have a storage unit project that I need to start on. That’s just finding a new, cheaper unit that’s closer to our apartment. But I have to look, and make phone calls… That feels like a Thursday thing.

    Anyway, this post is clearly going to be a part of my Greatest Hits Blog book.

  • That Was A Fast Rejection

    So, I had a flurry of submissions that I sent out at the end of January. On the 31st of January to be exact. The month had flown by, and I had fallen behind on some projects, but I made a promise to myself that I was going to get submissions out before the end of the month. I sent out a handful, all to lit journals that I felt my work complimented. Just playing the game like a million other writers.

    I do appreciate that the readers and editors of these journals can get inundated with submissions, and though they try their best, it can take time before they are able to respond. (I once got an email from an editor apologizing for taking so long on my submission, and then a month later they rejected me.) Everyone wants an answer sooner than later, and I do like that some journals says that you should expect a response after three months… if not sooner.

    This afternoon I just received a rejection, after only nine days.

    They were fast; I do like that.

    It was substantially shorter than three months; I don’t like that.

    In all fairness, it’s a rather odd duck of a flash piece.

    See, I want to believe that there was a little bit of a debate over there. Like the reader is fighting for my piece, but the editor is holding strong that there really isn’t a place for my story in their publication, even though it is well written. Then other editors and readers start weighing in. The debate starts getting tense. Voices start rising. People are getting mad. Resignations are threatened; accusations of favoritism are made; mass chaos envelopes the office!

    But, then cooler heads prevail. Drinks are had; apologies given; laughs are shared; everyone starts talking about why they got into publishing in the first place; the power of words and ideas; given people opportunities to share their voices and insights. It’s a thankless job; always on the verge of collapse; no one makes any money.

    “We do this because we love it.” Someone says.

    Everyone agrees, and smiles.

    Then the managing editor adds, “But we got to reject that story.”

    “That’s true,” the reader agrees.

    “Send him the form letter of death!”

    They all start laughing…

    I guess what I’m saying is that if they would have held onto it for at least a month, then my ego wouldn’t be so bruised.

    But, rejection is part of the game.

  • Busy Day, and Submissions

    I only have fifteen minutes left to my part of the day, and I spent too much time doing laundry, and thinking about the mistakes I have made of late.

    I’m thinking it was a good day to be humbled.

    I’m also thinking that taking time for myself and not rushing things is more important than ever, and I should make a better effort.

    But, this is just the start of the week, and I still have time to make corrections.

    I do want to work no the online journal thing, and I am hung up on how to ask for submissions. I was planning on using Submittable, but they charge $85 a month for their service. A little too expensive for this idea, as I was looking to spend no start-up money on other than getting a URL. You know, onetime fees, not monthly stuff. Anyone out there have a suggestion on what platform to use for getting and organizing submissions?

    Anyway, I got dishes to do, a kid to pick up at school, homework, and talking to my dad. Don’t get me started on dinner.

    Maybe tomorrow…