"those thrumming radiant selves"

An imagination. A worship. A scribble.

If you ever need a rabbit-hole to fall through, google “collective noun for writers.” 

All three feel true for those included in the collection The O. Henry Prize Stories: 100^th Anniversary Edition edited by Laura Furman. I was especially taken with the story “Julia and Sunny” by Sarah Shun-lien Bynum. Partly I think because it chronicles a couples’ friendship which I’ve always aspired to but never been able to achieve. I admit to feeling a smidge smug when the friendship dissolves along with one of the marriages, but more importantly, familiar details of harried parenthood stuck with me more. Why is the trip to the post office always pushed to the bottom of the list? How we long for naptime.

I was chuffed*, then, to discover Bynum’s story collection Likes. From Waldorf school faires, celebrity neighbors, and orange cats to middle school tribulations, each story is a little bit magical without failing to be relatable. In her novel Ms. Hempel Chronicles, we enter the world of seventh grade teacher Beatrice Hempel with all the student (and teacher) drama that entails. Ms. Hempel looks with envy upon those who have moved on to other careers but is not quite sure how to step off the pedestal built by her adoring students.  

A chapter. A library. An excellence.

Yep, those too.

 

*Thank you, British baking shows

“These deprivations never leave us”

One of my favorite lessons for the ESL classroom teaches students about intonation. Students are given a simple word (such as “hello”) and then asked to say the word…

to their boss

to their best friend

to an attractive person at a bar

to a six-month old baby

In case you were wondering, the way we talk to babies is universal.

This lesson came to mind as I read Eliabeth Strout’s novel Oh William! As the protagonist, Lucy, recounts stories about her first husband, William, she repeatedly ends the anecdote with “Oh William.” This simple phrase speaks volumes depending on the occasion. Lucy, a writer herself, adroitly uses the phrase to express surprise, annoyance, pity, empathy, sorrow, and disappointment.

If you haven’t read Strout’s other books about Lucy (My Name is Lucy Barton and Anything Is Possible), you’ll be able to follow the narrative. But if you have, her cryptic references to her childhood and relationship to her mother will make more sense.

Despite the oftentimes dark subject matter, when all is said and done, you’ll hear “Oh William!” spoken with delight.

Will you be mine?

A repost from 2020...

You know that feeling? Butterflies in the gut excited feeling. Counting down the minutes until the next meeting feeling. Time stopping in the moment when you are together feeling. That staying up until all hours of the night replaying key moments feeling.

Even though it’s Valentine’s Day, I’m not talking about that feeling. In this case, it's the feeling of discovering a new author.  

A few weeks ago, I stumbled across a book called 26a by Diana Evans when I was scrolling through Libby looking for that little sticker they put on the covers of award winning books.

From the first pages, I was hooked. Not only on the story of growing up in eighties England, but on Evans’ style. The description of twins Georgia and Bessi’s birth likened to roadkill (as weird as that may sound) is gorgeously brutal. The trauma of this beginning foreshadows later moments of darkness. Unfortunately, it’s a darkness that in the end proves unbearable for at least one of the characters. And more poignant when you learn some of Evans’ own story.

I’ve just picked up Evans’ 2018 work – Ordinary People. And haven’t yet been disappointed. Where the focus of 26a was from the perspective of the kids, this novel looks at life from the standpoint of the parents. In chapter two, a wife asks her husband if he’s seen a purple fitted sheet. This seemingly mundane exchange manages to capture perfectly the dissatisfaction both partners are feeling in their relationship. 

Forget chocolate and roses. My heart rests in the pages of a decadently written book. 

"a spectacle of indecency"

Workers rally in favor of union. Wealth inequality is only getting worse.

Headlines familiar to today’s readers wouldn’t have been foreign to the early 1900s reporter of Jess Walter’s The Cold Millions. Set primarily in Spokane, Washington, the novel examines the struggles of miners and day laborers. 

Brothers Rye and Gig are among those who scrape by on odd jobs. Tired of the hustle, they gravitate to the union hall, not only to fight for their rights, but for the free breakfast. When a policeman is found dead, the tension between the workers and management escalates. Gig ends up in prison, and Rye strikes an unsavory deal with the richest man in town, Brand.

Fans of historical fiction and contemporary lit will both find something to love in this story. One of my favorite scenes takes place between the retiring vaudeville actress and her successor. Read the excerpt.

This book also checks off a box from my reading challenge. Find other Washington State Award Winners here.

Spotify and Side Hug

I may have mentioned once or twice how I love any book or tv show that takes me behind the scenes. One world I haven’t ventured into is that of classical music. Until now.

The Ensemble by Aja Gabel follows the careers and personal entanglements of a young string quartet. The story opens as Jana, Brit, Henry, and Daniel are preparing for the competition that will launch their career. Jana is the most ambitious; Henry the most talented. Daniel the most likely to sleep with someone; Britt the most likely to pine. From the rehearsal room to the stage, the bedroom to the bar, we discover their career goals, familial disappointments, and later their parenting styles. 

With each section being introduced by a set list, this book begs for a playlist. Thankfully, Gabel obliges.

And adds just the right note.

Happy Birthday, Murakami

In honor of Haruki Murakami's birthday this week, here's a repost from 2010 about a Murakami-esque author. 

I swear I did not read the blurb on the back of this book when coming up with this comparison myself. So, Vendela Vida, I agree. Atmospheric Disturbances by Rivka Galchen is quite.

Never read Murakami? Start here. Or with this more recent essay about his love of t-shirts. 

Never heard of Galchen? Start here.

Never mind? Go here for other authors on The New Yorker's list of 20 under 40 to watch. And read.

Five Tuesdays in Winter

Did you make a resolution to read more in 2022? You might try the challenge over at Book Riot. Or you might create a BINGO board like the one provided by my local library.

I started off the year with a new book of short stories by one of my favorite authors, Lily King. Five Tuesdays in Winter includes a little romance, a lot of adolescent awkwardness, and a fair bit of mother-child angst. King’s characters are reminiscent of friends you had in college or a coworkers’ eccentric aunt. Ones you can look on fondly, yet remain nostalgically detached, while you enjoy hearing about their antics. While the stories touch on realistic themes, they remain sunny enough for even the coldest winter afternoon of reading.

For more short story recommendations, click here. (Or click on "stories" under the Index on the right.)