Caitlin Horrocks ~ Opening a Story (Short Story Month)

One of my favorite short story collections that I’ve read recently is “This Is Not Your City” by Caitlin Horrocks. I recommended it for The Lit Pub. Horrocks is a writer to study. I’m particularly taken with her openings. Every story in the collection opens strongly. Here, for example is the opening of “Going to Estonia”:

“Ursula Kotinlainen left the north on January second, a Sunday. She’d already been on the bus for two hours when a boy with acne and a wispy moustache got on in Sodankyla and sat in front of her. He wiped the condensation off the window and waved frantically to an old woman outside, shouted as the bus pulled away. At a highway rest stop outside Kemi, the boy stood outside the men’s toilets puffing out great gouts of air, trying to step forward into the clouds before they disappeared. He had a strange, flat face, and as Ursula watched him choke with laughter at his own breath she thought there was something wrong with him. But it was the first time she’d seen the sun rise in over a month, and as she looked at the boy, at the haze of exhaust the idling bus exhaled, at her own breath, she could believe that there was warmth in the belly of the world.”

It’s an incredible story. This strange boy she observes so closely at the beginning of her journey will not figure into the rest of the story, at all, but what’s important here is what she observes, how she observes, and where her mind is in this moment. That is the jumping off point and already, I want to know this Ursula. All of Horrocks’ stories did this for me, in the all-important opening paragraphs.

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“Flower Children” by Maxine Swann (Short Story Month)

This is one of my all-time favorite stories. It’s beautiful, honest, harrowing. These are the last few sentences, which I have memorized:

The leaves on the apple trees are all turning blue. The sunflowers in the garden are quivering, heads bowed–empty of seed now. And the heart gets watered and recovers itself. There is hope, everywhere there’s hope. Light approaches from the back. Between the dry, gnarled branches, it’s impossible to see. There are the first few drops. There are the oak trees shuddering. There’s a flicker of bright gray, the underside of one leaf. There was once a child standing at the edge of the yard at a terrible loss. Did she know this? Yes. The children! (They have her arms, his ears, his voice, his smell, her soft features, her movements of the hand and head, her stiffness, his confusion, his humor, her ambition, his daring, his eyelids, their failure, their hope, their freckled skin–)

“Flower Children” originally appeared in Ploughshares and was reprinted in BASS 1998. The story can be read online here: Flower Children

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Falling in love with literary short fiction: My post at The Quivering Pen for Short Story Month

Asked to write something for David Abrams’ fantastic lit blog, The Quivering Pen, for Short Story Month (or week, for the blog), I wrote about my first introduction to contemporary short fiction, Best American Stories 1998:

I still have it. I’ve reread it countless times. Its front cover has fallen off and there’s writing in the margins and sentences I’d run over with pink highlighter and exclamation marks all over the place. On some of the pages there are scribbles courtesy of an impatient toddler made to sit on my lap while I read. On the first page of Poe Ballantine’s story I’d written “HOLY SHIT” (the extent of my critical reading skills at the time) and that was pretty much how I felt about all the stories. Looking at the book now, I feel the same rush of joy I felt when I read it in 1998.

Read the entire article here: The Quivering Pen

And while you’re there read the great posts on the short story by Dawn Raffel, Darlin’ Neal, Eugene Cross, Bonnie Jo Campbell, and Alyson Hagy.

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Joy Williams Makes Me Laugh and A Story by Me

Joy Williams

Oh man. I’ve finally gotten around to reading a novel by Joy Williams. I’ve read her short story collections and reread them. She just floors me. But now I’m reading The Quick and The Dead. Oh it’s an odd novel. I’m not getting “caught up in the plot”. You never do with Joy Williams. You get caught up in the language, the dialogue, the places and the characters. Joy Williams is funny too. Am I the only one who thinks this? Woman makes me laugh. It’s such a wicked, biting sense of humor. I think she’d be funny to talk to.

Come on. Does that not look like someone who likes to laugh?


John Minichillo told me that Joy Williams once bought him a beer. I’m so jealous.

I mean, maybe this isn’t supposed to make me laugh, but it did:

“He felt as resourceful as the Cub Scout he had once been. He hoped all his cub mates were dead, the little bastards.”

HA!

So I’m reading The Quick and The Dead very, very slowly because I love Joy Williams’ sentences. Sometimes her stories are devastating. I wonder if this novel will be devastating. I don’t get the sense that it will in the same way some of her stories are. “Honored Guest” kills me every time.

It’s Short Story Month

I love that short story month exists. I’m writing a short essay for David Abrams’ blog, The Quivering Pen. I’m thinking a lot about what short stories mean to me and it’s funny, but as a writer, I am a relative latecomer to the marvel that is the short story. I’ll say more about it on David’s blog.

In honor of short story month, I thought I’d link to a few of my stories which appear in my new collection, TOGETHER WE CAN BURY IT (I’m also going to link stories that I love by other people). That first printing sold out so fast I feel almost as if the book has disappeared. But it will be back soon and I hope lots of people read it. The thing about publishing a book, for me, is that it creates an incredible urge to go hide under the covers. What is that?

I think it’s that I feel so exposed. Uncomfortably so. And yet, I truly do want people to read my stories. Writing is my chance to speak up and say what I want to say in a fictional way. In a family of talkers and storytellers, I am the quiet one. My publisher, Molly Gaudry, at The Lit Pub has given me some author questions and I’m taking a ridiculous amount of time answering them. I have to talk about This. Writing. Myself. Myself as a Writer. And Me as a Person. It’s daunting. I go very quiet. Can I just write a story instead?

A Story by Me

One of the stories in TOGETHER WE CAN BURY IT is “Snow” which appeared originally in the lit journal, New South. The editor of New South surprised me by taking two of my more experimental stories. This one originally was one very, very long paragraph. I broke it up here, at Fictionaut, to give readers’ eyes a break. I have a sort of love affair with snow and winter. I like shorter days and the perfect, slanted light that happens around 4:30 and the way a new snow transforms a landscape and the world gradually becomes breathtakingly foreign.

Click on this pretty picture to read “Snow” by me.

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“Literature is always written by outsiders…”

Literature is always written by outsiders… by a person inclined not towards connecting with those around him or her but retreating into a world of nerdily private dream… To write is to fail, more or less, constantly. ~ Tom Bissel, in his book, Magic Hours

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Books I’ve read, am reading…

I’m making some progress on my initial set of ten books to read. I listed ten so that I would not be so overwhelmed. I have strayed from this list since I made it, reading Sweet Talk by Stephanie Vaughn (it’s fantastic, I love her writing) and rereading Pride and Prejudice. When I finish these I’ll make a new list which will include Matt Bell’s Cataclysm Baby and Jac Jemc’s My Only Wife. Also, Jensen Beach’s book For Out of the Heart Proceed, which comes out in May. But I still feel overwhelmed. There are so many great books.

1. Shut Up/Look Pretty –Lauren Becker, Erin Fitzgerald, Kirsty Logan, Michelle Reale and Amber Sparks READ, loved, want to review, but damn if Len Kuntz didn’t write an amazing, thoughtful review here on his blog

2. The Last Repatriate –Matthew Salesses JUST STARTED

3. Wild –Cheryl Strayed

4. Birds of a Lesser Paradise –Megan Mayhew Bergman READ, it’s so good

5. Treasure Island!!! — Sara Levine

6. Betty Superman –Tiff Holland READ, SO good! Tiff Holland!

7. Threats: A Novel –Amelia Gray

8. Bluets –Maggie Nelson READ, gorgeous, still thinking of this one…

9. Girlchild — Tupelo Hassman

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Myfanwy Collins’ ECHOLOCATION

I read my friend, Myfanwy Collins’, debut novel, ECHOLOCATION the moment I got my hands on it. We’ve been friends for many years and I’ve come to love and respect her and her writing enormously. And I’d seen a few excerpts of her novel when she was writing it and was hungry to see the finished product.

What I’ve always, always admired about Myfanwy’s writing is her singular ability to write gorgeous, lyrical prose even in the midst of telling a gritty, honest, story. You get that with ECHOLOCATION, but you also get the benefit of her masterful plot direction, her ability to set several subplots in motion while conveying a number of distinct characters and points of view. That takes incredible skill. The story has been synopsized in other reviews, so I won’t go into that here. But I will say that this is that rare and beautiful thing: the literary page-turner. The story holds you captive from page one. The writing is amazing and cinematic. I could see and feel everything going on at the funeral for the lost limb at the book’s beginning. And well, any story that involves a funeral for a lost limb pretty much has my unqualified endorsement.

Also, if you can get your hands on the audio book, you must listen to it. Heidi Faith does a stunning job of bringing the voices of the characters and the story of ECHOLOCATION to life. I listened to it a few weeks after reading the book and loved it.

Strange, sad, compelling, gritty, dead-honest and beautifully wrought. If you have not already read this impressive debut novel, I urge you to do so.

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Two New Reviews of Together We Can Bury It, by Kathy Fish

A lovely, kind review of my new collection from Myfanwy Collins:

Together We Can Bury It, by Kathy Fish.

Also, a terrific review by Kevin Fanning on Goodreads.

Thanks so much, both of you!

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Review of TOGETHER WE CAN BURY IT / Len Kuntz

Wow, my day has been made by this beautiful review of TOGETHER WE CAN BURY IT by Len Kuntz on his blog People You Know By Heart. I am hugely grateful for the kind words.

“From the terrific book title, we move through the lives of troubled people not unlike wraiths who slip through bedroom walls to glimpse the destruction of life or its smoldering aftermath. Some pieces are clipped as short as a page. A few stories might stretch as long as six pages. No matter the length, Fish makes the reader work in all the right ways, so that there are needed pauses and reflections both during and after having finished a story. The reader sometimes has to ask, “Does that mean what I think?” or “Wait a minute—what’s really going on here?” Often, however, the message is brutally clear, as in the concluding lines of “Tederoni”:
“He stoops and picks up the kitten’s smooshed head and its body and the pieces are so small in his hands. Together, we walk to the side of the road and I watch as he chucks them, hard, into a patch of high weeds.” Read the entire review on Len’s blog People You Know By Heart

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Together We Can Bury It can now be ordered from The Lit Pub!

I’m so happy and grateful to everyone who bought my book at AWP. Thank you so much! There are a few remaining copies now available to order directly from The Lit Pub Bookstore All copies of the limited first edition have now sold out. Look for the second run in April!

Spanning nearly a decade of Kathy Fish’s writing, Together We Can Bury It draws heavily on the author’s Midwestern roots. Like the changing seasons, themes of childhood, siblinghood, and adult loss and betrayal are woven throughout these stories. In “Florida,” we share in Emmeline’s devastation when her mother makes her go to school unbathed after wetting the bed: “But how will you ever learn if you don’t suffer the consequences?” In stories like “Shoebox,” we witness daughters struggling against distant parents, their lives out of control; these girls “don’t want to grow big and strong, they want to be left alone.”

As we read about and remember milestone moments from our own lives, like first kisses, first heartbreak, and first sexual encounters, so too do we recognize that familiar “smile a woman wears when she’s on the verge of tears,” particularly in stories like “Wake Up,” “The Hollow,” “Breathless,” and “Foreign Film,” which reveal to us the lives of women in the midst of separation, divorce, widowhood, and desperation: “I call my husband sometimes in the middle of the night. ‘Are we going to be okay?’ I ask, whispering. I don’t want to wake him up completely.” It is difficult not to think of these women as the little girl, all grown up now, from “Wild Yellow Dog, Giant Red Fox,” whose grandmother gives her a Royal typewriter and asks: “Please make your next story a happy one.” This is a collection that captures the feeling of embarking “on a long trip, something important and urgent, as if someone far away has died and here we are, speeding to the wake.”

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