Florida: Stories

I loved Lauren Groff's Fates and Furies (which I have et to finish, years later!), which I'm not sure I ever blogged about, so I requested her new book of short stories, Florida, as soon as I could. 

I wasn’t entirely sold by the first story — that of a suburban mom who walks her anger off for hours every night, watching her neighborhood change and shift throughout the seasons. But the second story brought me in a bit — that of Jude and his life’s tale in 14 pages. This story was fascinating, in that Groff takes you from Jude’s childhood to the day he sends his daughter off to college. It’s a wild ride, one that manages to break your heart while also being somewhat bare bones. It speaks to Groff’s astounding storytelling, that she can speed through a life and you feel like you know him intimately.

“Dogs Go Wolf,” the third story, is what completely sold me. The tale of two young girls left to fend for themselves on an island, alone, was gripping and jaw-dropping. Groff has this ability to create fully formed characters within a single page, so that when you realize the tragedy of their existence you can’t turn back and in-know it. I was both intrigued and devastated by these two girls, hoping for them that their mother wouldn’t be the jerk that she was and that she would come back for them. It wasn’t meant to be, and we as the readers are better off for that. We leave with more than we came with. 

Through the story of the woman with a head injury camping with her two sons, we move into another one of Groff’s masterpieces, a story in which a woman opts to ride out a hurricane at home, only to be visited by the great dead loves of her past. This story was surprisingly moving and I found my throat catching in moments. It is a little life-flashing-before-your-eyes but with an honest twist, as there are no holds barred between her and her ghosts. 

The next two stories were equally arresting — one of a pair of friends on holiday in France, where secrets peek around every corner, and the other a woman on annual holiday in Brazil in which her mettle is tested by a storm. As the stories progress, Groff’s writing continues to make its mark as she weaves the tales of these women who are three-dimensional and full of life and love and missteps and small triumphs. You may think you know what is going to happen, but Groff will surprise you with what you least expect, and boy, is that a feat. 

As I rinsed out the last of her stories, I put down this book better than when I came to it, and for me that is a mark of the beauty of this work. I need to turn back to Fates and Furies next, this time with a fresh appreciation for Groff and her storytelling. 

Ford County: Stories

A little bit of a different John Grisham for you today. I bring you Ford County, Grisham's book of short stories that brings us back to the location of his first book, A Time to Kill, which I loved.

I am going to list out the stories here because that's what I feel like doing today.

"Blood Drive" - A young man is in the hospital after a work accident, and three friends drive up to Memphis to donate blood, only to run into a series of mishaps that waylay them at every turn.

"Fetching Raymond" - A mom and her two older sons head off to Parchman to see her youngest son on death row.

"Fish Files" - What would you do if one phone call could be the key to leave your boring, listless life behind and start over?

"Casino" - Be careful what you wish for, and watch the greed, because before you know it, an enemy you never even knew you had might take it all away.

"Michael's Room" - A man's past work deeds come back to haunt him one night in a grocery store.

"Quiet Haven" - You never quite know what that man is up to, beginning work at him umpteenth nursing home and seeking out odd friendships with the residents. He has some tricks up his sleeve, and they may just break the bank.

"Funny Boy" - A not-quite-prodigal son comes home to die, having left at young age. He was always "funny," which in small town 90's parlance means gay, and he is now dying of that disease. A surprising friendship sustains him until the end.

I was quite pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed these stories. One of the blurbs on the back calls it Grisham's best writing, and while I can't quite get myself to fully agree with that statement, I do think that it ranks up there. Nothing, in my mind, beats vintage Grisham in terms of the legal thriller, but this is quite a lovely tome that pitches the residents of Ford county in a variety of lights. The upright citizens are marked by the different characters that come through their lives, and the stories lie in those characters and not the upright citizens. After all, going about your business is no fun to read. Each of these stories has its merits and was worth reading. While I mentioned in an earlier short story collection (Curtis Sittenfeld's You Think It, I'll Say It) how much I loved that she let her stories dangle at the end, Grisham does the complete opposite and it works so well for these stories. He draws them to a close with a kind of ending that feels complete yet leaves you wanting more. These characters are so interesting and their stories are fascinating.

If I had to pick a favorite, I think "Funny Boy" would be it. There was something so human and raw in the story of Adrian coming home to die, more to avoid his friends watching him suffer than to be with his family. In fact, his family is so afraid of AIDS, which was still misunderstood in the late 1980's and 90's, that they ship him off to their other property "on the other side of the tracks." In the small town South, that means the area where people of color live. While in 2018 it feels offensive, there was a beauty in his friendship with Emporia, the woman renting the family home, and how she cared for him in his final days. That relationship is such a beautiful bloom on an island of gross ignorance, and the love she builds for him made my eyes water a little.

There were also laughs in this book, some because they were "haha" funny and some because there was humor in the dark moments. "Blood Drive," for example, should not have been funny at all, but those moments of mishap occurring with these not-so-smart guys on their way to help someone that they don't even know for reasons that make no sense to the observer were a riot. Reading this book with a distance of 25 years (give or take) provided a humor that might not have been the case in the days without the internet and our exposure to different walks of life. I thoroughly enjoyed this collection and I'm glad I picked it up. 

You Think It, I'll Say It: Stories

Curtis Sittenfeld is a darling in my eyes (her writing, I mean...I haven't actually met her, although I have no doubt she is lovely). I requested a review copy of her new book of short stories, You Think It, I'll Say It, with high hopes. I was not disappointed.

A newly single woman attends an academic conference only to make a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time. A happily married woman decides to have an affair with a family friend. A college student chooses a new friend unwisely. A new mom experiences the superiority of the perfectly coiffed pregnant goddess in her yoga class. An emotionally distant man enjoys single life save for the one secret woman he electronically communicates with about their shared love of classical music. A former magazine writer takes her new baby across the country with her to interview a celebrity, only to realize that her old dreams don't fit with her new life. A married mother despises the celebrity chef who used to sleep with her at camp years ago, who knows a secret that she longs to share with the world.

Short stories are hit and miss with me. Sometimes they miss the mark; sometimes they are absolutely everything. I have found that I particularly prefer female short story writers, and Sittenfeld fits into this mold. I was completely taken with this lot of stories and Sittenfeld's ever changing literary voice. She has a knack for finding the exact tone for her characters regardless of their age or gender, and it took practically no time for me to completely buy in to the plots of the individual stories. Reading her work was like eating a lemon cake with buttercream frosting -- it was light enough that I could eat three pieces, but rich enough that I could savor every bite while wondering how on earth something could taste so good. (This is also one of my highest complements, as this dessert combination is my life.)

There is so much I want to talk to you about each individual story, but I don't want to give you any spoilers because it's such a lovely book that you need to read it yourself. I found myself laughing out loud because Sittenfeld knows people at their basest human needs and desires, and she writes her characters and her stories to evoke this understanding. I think that's what makes her writing so accessible while still being something that you feel pleased to be given. There is a twist at the end of "The Prairie Wife," the story of the celebrity chef, that is so subtle that it was solidly brilliant. Not just good -- seamless. I found myself enraptured by "Off the Record," and the journalist who goes to interview a now-famous actress for a second time only to find herself with leaking boobs and losing the scoop. In "Volunteers Are Shining Stars," I loved the narrator although she was a terribly unlikable person. It was astounding, really, that I pulled for her even as she is jealously trying to ruin another person.

I often can't decide whether or not I like having an end to my short stories, because I love the ambiguity of a lack of ending but at the same time I want to punch someone for not knowing what happens to the characters. The most incredible part of Sittenfeld's stories was that I never got an official ending to anyone's story, but ultimately it doesn't matter because it was clear to me that I was just taking a small peek into these characters' lives for a small snippet of time. Even though I felt that I knew them deeply and intimately by the time I was halfway through their snippets, it didn't matter that I would never know what came before and what would come next. It reminds me of the question we ask in so many ways for so many reasons -- what makes today different than any other day? Sittenfeld takes just a moment from these lives and gives it to us to tell us why today is different than any other day in their lives, and their lives only. So when the stories end, they just end. I didn't feel like I needed more -- I finished very satisfied -- but by no means were ends wrapped up. Their lives would move on, and I will meet them again someday. (Right? RIGHT, CURTIS?)

Sittenfeld is one hell of a short story writer, and I would love to see more of this out of her. I love the rest of her work as well, and I may actually pull Prep now to read it earlier than I had planned, but I think this may very well be my favorite piece of her work. I'm completely blown away and in love with this collection. 

This Is How You Lose Her: Stories

I have yet to pick up any of Junot Dìaz's books, so this week on the train I packed This is How You Lose Her, his most recent collection of short stories. 

Yunior is a young man who gets into all sorts of pickles with women. He is the through line of these stories. From his mishaps with the opposite sex to stories of his childhood, Yunior's life is presented in technicolor for all to see. He has cheated on his fiancé for six years and is devastated to lose her. He watches his brother waste away from cancer while losing his mother. He watches his father lose his mother. Yunior's repeats those same old patterns. He is, however, on all of these stories, simply himself. 

I had a hard time getting into the first two stories. I wasn't thrilled with how the women were spoken about, and while yes, I understand that this is how the character thought of the women he dated, I was still not comfortable with the crude objectification of the physical aspects of these women that were clearly only focused on the sexual aspect of their relationship. In context, yes, it makes sense, but I'm not sold. 

However, as we moved into the stories about Yunior's relationship with his family I became far more engrossed and bought into the writing. Dìaz's astonishing prose really shine in those moments of fragility in Yunior, when he spoke of his brother and the confusion that broke through the hard-hearted surface of Yunior's facade. This carried over into the story of his life after his fiancé -- he was flippant and lost her, and when he recovered years later from his broken heart, he was never the same. It was a beautiful treatise on self-exploration, as told through parallel tracks of Yunior and his best friend. 

I'm now interested to pick up the rest of the Dìaz cannon to see what I think. 

Rogue Lawyer: A Novel

Newer John Grisham is interesting. It feels like a departure for him, even more so than mid-aughts Grisham. This is Rogue Lawyer.

Sebastian Rudd isn't your normal kind of lawyer. His last office was fire-bombed, so his current office is on wheels, driven by Partner, a former client and loyal companion. He doesn't take normal cases -- he takes the ones others don't want. Provided they can pay, of course. He is the backer of a cage fighter, and his ex-wife hates him with a passion. That's no surprise -- most of the people Rudd knows don't really like him anyway. 

This first book in what looks like it can be a nice, prolonged series is a nice collection of introductory stories. It's less of a novel and more of a compilation with a through line. I compared it to The Closer, the Kyra Sedgewick TV show that ran for a few seasons. (It's one of my favorites.) What I loved about that show was that it was both a procedural and had a through-story that ran throughout the season. This book was the same way. There was an undercurrent story while still lending itself to smaller short vignettes about interesting clients. I don't always love when Grisham departs from his usual M.O., but I totally dig this one. He did a great job weaving it all together. 

I also appreciate that Grisham wrote about some hard stories. He's becoming quite a social justice writer. I've quietly been watching this develop over the years, and this book was very much in that line. He has thoughts on rogue officers, and he still takes the good guy/bad guy line and makes it thick for his readers. Rudd is the only character that toes the line between on the side of right and on the side of wrong; he is, however, on the side of justice. I appreciate that in a protagonist. 

How to Make Your Cat an Internet Celebrity

My friends just get me. She gave me this book as a present in which to return the money she owed me, and that is a good friend. She knew i would love How to Make Your Cat an Internet Celebrity by Patricia Carlin.

If you have a cat, and you're not making money, what's the point having a cat? This book cheekily explores ways that you can exploit your cat for financial gain using the inter-webs. There are many different routes you can take, including funny, sad, dress up, or intellectual. Choose your poison, post, promote, and revel in the dough!

This book was a nice joyous addition to my weekend. I wanted a quick read that was going to make me smile, and this hit the nail on the nose. (Not sure if that's an actual expression, but I just decided it's one.) It was full of pictures of cats, which is probably my all-time favorite reasons to love a book, but it was also annotated and presented in a way that doesn't just promote cat celebrity but mocks it as well. This book was mostly tongue-in-cheek but also somewhat serious. It's amazing how many people have actually made their cats Internet celebrities, and I would be lying if I said that it didn't cross my mind to try. Henry the One Eyed Wonder Cat is amazing and hilarious and cute and sweet and intellectual, but it's hard to get all of that across in a meme. So he and I will just have to settle for obscurity in our Harlem apartment.

The History Major: A Novel

I have read some of Michael Phillip Cash's stuff before, and he is overall a genuinely funny writer. En route to Book Expo America in Chicago this year, I needed a short book for the flight there since I knew I was going to be getting a ton of books at the Expo and whatever I was reading I wanted to finish it in one sitting so that I would have less to carry home. At just over 100 pages, this novella was exactly what I needed. This is The History Major.

Amanda wakes up one morning after a night of partying ended with a huge fight with her boyfriend. Only she has a new roommate with much different habits than her own, and she has a different schedule than she has been on so far in the first semester of school. She is scheduled to take history with Professor Totle -- which, ugh. She hates history. Who are these people in her class? Why does that bad boy sitting next to her look familiar? Why is she taking this class that she despises? Where is her boyfriend?

One thing that I appreciate about Cash's work is that he weaves a strong, intense tale, and he often manages to keep the truth under wraps until close to the end of his stories. This one I had suspicions but didn't quite guess until the big reveal, and I found that to be very enjoyable even if I didn't love the premise itself. That's about all I can say without giving away spoilers, so you will just have to trust me on this one.

I would have liked to hear more of the main characters in the book. I never really felt that I got to know Amanda and her cohort well. The character arcs were skimpy at best, and so honestly, I just didn't care about the outcome. I felt I could put this book down and be ok with that, and it made me sad in a big way. I think that Amanda especially, but also her boyfriend Patrick and best friends Danielle and Kaitlyn would have made excellent characters if given a chance to be fully fleshed out. Instead they felt like props and therefore two dimensional.

I'm order for that to happen there would need to be less history. I love Joan of Arc, and I find the. Borgias, especially Lucrezia, to be fascinating. However, the amount of time spent relating these stories instead of those of the book's protagonist and supporting cast was to the story's detriment. I was incredibly interested when Amanda's backstory with her mother came out, and I wanted more of that relationship instead of just surface-level details.

If you want to pick up one of Cash's books, I would recommend Stillwell.

In the Name of Love: Ann Rule's Crime Files Volume 4

Ann Rule's recent passing was very sad for me, as I was hoping to one day get her to write my own true crime story (in conjunction with my Dateline episode). Alas, that is not to be. On vacation recently I picked up Volume 4 of her crime files, In the Name of Love. 

I think the thing that I love most about Ann Rule's Crime Files is that it gives me access to several stories at once; one longer one and several short ones. It gives me a wide range for my murder-and-mayhem fix. The short story, "The Most Dangerous Game," was one of the most affecting stories I had read in a long time. Two young girls think they befriend a man in the woods, only to play, quite literally, the most dangerous game to stay alive. I still shiver when I think about it. Ann has this way of starting her stories so that they sound like great intros to a television show, and I think that's a part of why I keep coming back to her books.

In, "The Killer Who Never Forgot...or Forgave," I found myself actually questioning my own sanity. A woman and her baby are strangled in their own home while her husband and older child slept in the next room. How is that even possible? Well, you know how that's possible, folks. The bigger question is: Why did he do it? The thing with Ann's stories is that they are very rarely whodunit's. Don't come into these books thinking you are going to get a thriller. Instead, you are going to get more of a psychological study as to what the motives are behind why people kill. (My favorite!)

The main story of jealousy and intrigue was about Jerry Harris, a wealthy man who married a younger woman, only to find himself murdered in cold blood. Except this isn't the kind of story you think it is. Jerry and Susan were actually in love, and there was never a question that she was a grieving widow on a mission so solver her husband's murder, come hell or high water. As Ann digs into the case (as solved, of course, by investigators), we see a complex web of jealousy and greed. Can you really trust your friends? Are you sure about that?

Approval Junkie: Adventures in Caring Too Much

I read a great review of Faith Salie's Approval Junkie: Adventures in Caring Too Much in Entertainment Weekly before I jetted off to Chicago for 2016's Book Expo America (more on that later!), and when I saw Faith was signing, I jumped in line to grab a copy.

Aaaaaaaaand, it turns out I'm in love with Faith. It's funny that I don't necessarily watch CBS's Sunday Morning or listen to NPR's Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me even though I am familiar with and thoroughly enjoy both. I fell in love with Faith in line for her book at BEA. She stopped for just a few seconds to talk to all of us who wanted to speak to her. She asked about my blog (so few authors do, by the way), and we found out we are from the same area in Atlanta. She told me I would love the chapter on her winning her high school beauty pageant (I did), and we laughed over growing up in the same place. It was hard not to ask her to be my best friend then and there. BUT, I didn't know what I was about to get myself into.

I started the book right away. (BEA wasn't even a week ago, b-t-dubs.) I finished it before I even boarded the flight home from Chicago. It's fair to say that I love every stinkin' word in this book. I love how honest and raw and full frontal Faith is about her life. She talks frankly about her first marriage and what a sociopath her wasband was. (She calls him her wasband. I love it.) She is upfront and clear about her desire for children, and she lets us follow her on her IVF journey. It's still hard, in 2016, to be so blatant about our desire as women to have children if we want them. I do, and when I was single, even a bit now, I often get, "Don't be in a rush," "Don't worry about it," and a million other pieces of advice that I just don't want to hear. It was so refreshing to hear that she brought it up on her first date with her husband. Can you see why I want her to be my BFF?

My favorite part of this book, however, was how funny she is. So many times, in books by comedians or personalities, they try so hard to be funny that it's blatant and very overdone. I never felt that way with this book. I found myself snorting out loud in bed while I was curled up pantsless late into the night with another one of her stories about freezing her eggs right before meeting her husband -- and joking about it with him to test the waters. I guffawed at her rummaging through Buy Buy Baby as though her life (or her child's) depended on which stroller she chose. I understood her need to win her high school pageant. She was hilarious in a very natural way, in the, "Oh, I say those things too always get in trouble for not thinking first TOO!" kind of way. So, Faith Salie, thank you for being you and for giving a silly lady like me not just a good laugh, but a feeling of having a soul mate on the page.

Dear Mr. You

It's an interesting concept, this Mary-Louise Parker memoir. Dear Mr. You is a series of letters written to the men in her life. I wanted to pick it up, and at a book-oriented Christmas party, there it sat like a gift waiting to be picked up. So I did.

I was discussing this book with a friend who said she didn't want to read it because it came across as pretentious and self-aggrandizing. I thought on that for a while, and realized that once I put this book into the memoir genre, that of course it is, because every memoir is pretentious and self-aggrandizing. It kinda defines the genre. It put the whole thing in a new perspective, and I stopped thinking of this book as a puff piece and more as a way to tell a story.

Here's why I think this is important: Because memoir plays with lives. Mostly your own, but also with others'.  We tell our stories entirely from our own points of view, and that affects other people whether we intend for it to our not. Our truth is our own, and memoir exploits that. So in Parker's memoir, we know that she has dated some famous people, one even leaving her when she was seven months pregnant for a younger actress. I understand Parker's need to tell these stories without naming names, and I loved that each chapter was addressed to a different nicknamed man.

Which leads me to the most profound of the letters, "Dear Cerberus." There has been much written about this all over the interwebs (just Google her name and the chapter title -- no need for me to link to everything here), and the consensus is that the three heads of the mythical dog represent three horrible relationships. I could speculate as to who they are, but really, I don't think it matters. It was the first dog head that punched me in the gut -- the picture of Parker in her new pants, of which she was excited and proud, and being torn down by physically and verbally for it was gut-wrenching. There is no self-pity though; it's a story of what happened and how she reacted to it. We have all had bad relationships, some more abusive than others and in different ways, but it's enough to know that feeling when someone you love turns to you and calls you a name you never envisioned they would.

There were other beautiful letters in here as well. The letter to the cab driver was universal until she turns to him and tells him about why she is in a bad mood -- she's pregnant and alone and she says, "It hurts to even breathe." Oh god, how that hurt to read. Her letter to a former younger lover, who at the time was tremendously younger but now with age she realizes wouldn't be quite so, was ridiculously lovely and so easy to understand. Her letter to her father was moving and gracious. Her letter to the doctor who saved her life was personal to me. To almost leave this mortal coil and to be pulled back to the earth -- there are not enough words on this earth for that gratefulness.

All of this to say that you can find where you fit in with this book if you open it. It doesn't have to be read in order, and these letters are ones you can come back to. Some you can read at a distance with age, and some you can look forward to. It's a lovely little memoir.

Lois Lane: Fallout

OH MY GAWD. You have no idea. Just...amazing. This is Gwenda Bond's Lois Lane: Fallout. 

Lois Lane has been to more schools than she can count. Every time she walks in, she hopes this time will be different. She is brassy and honest, which doesn't always work to her advantage. This time, at Metropolis High, she is determined to blend in. That is, until her first morning when she calls out the principal on his refusal to stop a young woman from being bullied by the Warheads, a group of students who take conforming to a new level. Lois begins researching this for her new job at the city paper, with some help from her mysterious online friend SmallvilleGuy, and what she uncovers may be more dangerous than she could ever imagine.

I am madly in love with this book and I now want Gwenda to be my best friend. This story just blew me away on so many levels. The first being that it is a fantastic story. It is timely and catchy, with a focus on virtual reality headsets. It of course made me feel super old and all like, "Why would these kids want to spend time in virtual reality," and then I remembered that kids like video games and stuff. (I am not a Luddite by any means, but I'm not much of a gamer.) The story had a fantastic narrative arc in and of itself, and the integration of present day technology was just superb. I'm madly in love.

Another way that I loved this book was the weaving of Superman into the story while not focusing on the superhero as the crux of the story. He helped Lois, for certain, but this was Lois's story first and foremost. And even more than that, Lois was a strong young woman with her own flaws that never resulted in her needing saving, but rather in finding ways to work with those around her to solve the challenges she faced in trying to help her friend and seek truth. (Or capital-t Truth?) It was a true series of events that featured a strong young woman, and that alone is good enough for me to recommend this book.

See, Lois has a bit of a mouth on her. It's something I can relate to. I am a feisty young (ahem) woman who often gets into trouble by speaking my mind. I'm not alone in this, however, and I know this is something that a lot of young woman can relate to. It was such an absolute relief to read a book that showed a character who looked like me, sounded like me, and had to find ways to talk herself out of ridiculous yet important situations like me. This book was not just wonderful, but it was important to me. I could see myself in it. And for that, I am thankful to you, Gwenda.

So yeah. Worth picking up for the young adult woman in your life. 

For purchase below. 

I Was a Child: A Memoir

I was incredibly interested in the idea of an illustrated memoir, so I picked up Bruce Eric Kaplan's I Was a Child this weekend. 

Bruce Eric Kaplan is best known for his cartoons in The New Yorker, but in this lovely, whimsical remembrance of a piece, he explores the bits and pieces of his memory that make up his childhood. It is a sharp reminder of how we all remember our own childhoods -- rather than as a flowing narrative, it comes back in paragraphs and anecdotes, often accompanied by flashbulb memories. Kaplan captures that type of memory as he explores his relationship with his parents, his childhood, and his home. 

There was something so indelibly charming about this memoir, in the way that Kaplan was able to tell his story in small illustrations and with only a paragraph or two of prose. My particularly favorite one was when his father insisted on locking the door every night with a hook and eye lock which would keep out absolutely no one in the event of an unfortunate break in. Nonetheless, every night, the hook and eye was fastened. I loved the stories of his parents, and of the memories of the trips on the New Jersey turnpike as an adult. 

Growing older is hard in some ways, great in others. The hardest part of getting older is your parents getting older. Just a few years ago I looked at my parents and realized they weren't in their 40's anymore. That is the perpetual age I will always see them as since that's what they were in my 20's when I got to know them best. But I'm now in my 30's, and my parents are pushing 60. (Well, my dad is already 60, so there. Sorry to out you on my blog, G.) My parents look great for their age, and if I look even a fraction as good as my mom does right now, my future rich husband will have a trophy wife on his hands. (Wait a second, wouldn't he already???) What resonated with me the most right now in my life was Kaplan's memories of his parents, both as a child and reflecting on them as an adult. I found it moving and touching. 

This was a lovely memoir that I was able to read in a day. I will keep it and go back to it in another year, because I think it will speak to me in a different way at another time in my life.  

For purchase below. 

Single, Carefree, Mellow: Stories

When the hot new book of the week is released, I usually have to pick it up, and Katherine Heiny's book of stories, Single, Carefree, Mellow did not disappoint.

11 stories about about women who love, lose, cheat, hurt, and just simply live their lives. Maya anchors the collection, a woman in love with her boss and her boyfriend both. Sasha commits to a drink with her boyfriend's wife, only to realize what a bad idea that really is. Gwen is in love with her roommate, but does he or doesn't he love her back? Josie's lover has found a new one -- on Twitter. Nina is sleeping with her running buddy while hosting the local minister in her garage apartment. Lives are messy in the real world.

These women all make up the strong, lovely, flawed, and honest characters of this incredible story collection. I mean, I heard it was good, then I read it and absolutely fell in love with Heiny's ability to tell a short story with sparkling sentences that lay out the absurdity of her characters while still making them entirely real and easy to relate to. I can't say that I have ever been in the position any of these women have been in, but I do know what it is like to be a young woman (I'm still young, damn it) dating and having feelings about gentleman callers and wanting to be seen as sexy and yearning and caring. This is exactly what this collection captures: the feelings and the feels and the complexities of being a human being living a life that is not a linear and logical path.

It is the through line of Maya that was particularly extraordinary. She is a young woman who is in love with her boss and wants to break up with her boyfriend, but not necessarily in that order. She more yearns for her boss because she wants to break up with her boyfriend. However, in the stories that follow, and I can't tell you what happens because it spoils the exact reaction I believe Heiny wants out of you, she becomes someone I cheered for even as she was making bad decisions. I loved her boyfriend and his family, and I just got who they were. Those we love tend to bring out both the best and the worst in us, and we in turn see the best and the worst in them. When we get into relationships, we choose the other person's family for better or for worse. Maya stays with her boyfriend in part out of comfortable love for him, but also out of longing for the love of his mother and the annoyance of his sister.

This collection was just marvelous, and I could not recommend it more. It is a shining star in the world of short stories, and you would be remiss in not adding it to your summer reading queue.  

For purchase below. 

The Roommates: True Tales of Friendship, Rivalry, Romance, and Disturbingly Close Quarter

I have, myself, been looking for a new roommate to replace one who mistook my apartment for a halfway house for unemployed Europeans. (Miscommunication, perhaps?) Between untoward house guests rolling joints in my living room and questionable (at best) decorating skills (have you met anyone who has to see everything s/he owns at all times?), it's time to break ties. So this week I picked up Stephanie Wu's collection of essays on roommates, The Roommates: True Tales of Friendship, Rivalry, Romance, and Disturbingly Close Quarters to have a good laugh and remind myself it really wasn't that bad after all. (Sort of.)

Roommates are everywhere. From boarding school to college to adulthood in a big city, they are almost inevitable in the 21st century. They make up some of the most popular television shows throughout history including The Odd Couple, Golden Girls, Friends, Felicity, and even today, How I Met Your Mother. We watch reality shows that thrive on the roommate relationship. Some experiences are great and others are horrific -- few are a happy medium. In this collection of stories from Stephanie Wu, true tales of roommate experiences are shared all the way from boarding school to young adulthood. 

Oh, how prescient this book was. I had it in my queue for quite a while, but since I've been dealing with a problem roommate situation (as mentioned above), I decided to pick it up and read this collection of anecdotes about both good and bad roommates. Some of these stories made me grateful my own situation wasn't as bad, and some of them made me desperately miss living alone. The funniest part of the connection between real life and that in the book was that my situation most resembles those from the college roommate section. And I'm in my early 30s. I don't particularly love sharing my home, but it's the price you pay in New York City to live frugally. Whether it's because you have a massive apartment in a pre-war building (that's me), or you want to buy into a beach house share over the summer -- at some point in big cities roommates are inevitable. It's not ideal, but we're moving onward and upward.

One of the most memorable stories in this book was about subletting and having one's apartment quickly become the headquarters for a national gang. There was also the one about the stealing roommate who was squirreling toilet paper under her bed. (After all, some people use much more toilet paper than others and then are continually confused as to why the toilet clogs.) It was one part hilarious and two parts sigh inducing because quite unfortunately for most of us, we all had something similar happen. The absolute worst probably would have been the identity stealing roommate. Seriously – what the literal #%&@?

I am not sure that having roommates gets any easier for someone like me who desperately needs alone time and who is very particular about how her home is kept. I like for things to be neat and clean and in order, and living with other people can be anxiety inducing when their way of living doesn't match yours. Some of the stories in this book go further than that, and it's not about different styles of living than about actual violation of privacy and the right to a safe place to live. I also wish that I could say that things got easier as you got older. That's also not entirely true. I went from living alone to having two roommates, one of whom is wonderful and the other is a bit of a child. You can't win them all though. So instead, we just find replacements. Because when you live in a big city like New York, you'll rarely be without roommates. Therefore, having a collection of stories such as these, you get a chance to laugh and realize that it could always be worse. (Again -- sort of.)

For purchase below (Kindle version!). 

People I Want to Punch in the Throat: Competitive Crafters, Drop-Off Despots, and Other Suburban Scourge

I needed a good laugh this week. Life has been crazy and I just needed snarky humor. So Jen Mann's People I Want to Punch in the Throat: Competitive Crafters, Drop-Off Despots, and Other Suburban Scourges hit the spot.

Suburbia is weird. It really is. Moms are obsessed with filling their kids schedules, every child has some sort of food allergy, and no one seems to get Jen and Ebenezer. Humor blogger Jen Mann pulls together some of her best suburban anecdotes to explore why on earth any sane person would want to live there. Starting with meeting her husband through the birth of their children and getting them through school, Jen finds the humor in all situations while staying true to her amazing, snarky self. 

So you can clearly tell by the blurb that I loved this book. Jen and I would best friends if only I lived in Kansas. Which I don't. Although it's not out of the question come job-search time. I completely understood why New York City was a no-go for her, and when her husband tells her he would never move back because, um, square footage, I almost cried real tears of jealousy. Because I want square footage, so bad. I kind of have it in my new beautiful pre-war rental, but, well, roommates. So I almost wanted to marry Ebenezer myself and move to the Midwest. As it goes with literature, you know?

I also find it particularly hard to choose a favorite story. I loved how honest Jen was about meeting her husband in a chat room, and I loved the story about the sociopath classmate of her son. I think, though, that my favorite would have to be the day care color group enforcer. Jen goes to join a play group for her young son, pre-preschool days, and when she shows up she discovers she can't be in the Red Group that meets on Wednesdays because it's closed. No new people. And definitely no people like Jen. She can join the Orange group, but they meet on Fridays, which is no good with Jen's schedule. It becomes an epic throw-down. I bet you can't guess who wins.

No matter what the subject matter, it was Jen's hilarious take-no-prisoners snark that made it all worthwhile reading. She doesn't take herself seriously and frankly, I try to do the same. Life is full of humor if you just take a moment to find it. I am glad Jen did, and I'm glad she decided to write it all down. For my enjoyment. As it should be.

Hard copy for purchase below.

Save the Date: The Occasional Mortifications of a Serial Wedding Guest

I can relate to this title so hard it's glorious. This is Jen Doll's Save the Date: The Occasional Mortifications of a Serial Wedding Guest.

Jen Doll can track her own life progression through the weddings she has attended--for better or for worse. Each wedding highlights a time of finding out who she is, behaving (but mostly not), and exploring what it means to be married. When you tie the knot, it's a commitment, and regardless of your feelings toward those relationships, you eventually have to put them aside, raise your glass, and eat your cake. But those stories that live on in infamy--well, they are worth keeping around, too. 

Oh, how much Jen Doll and I have in common. Sometimes the bridesmaid, always the guest, thankful to never be the bride. I felt myself relating to Jen very closely as she went through her slew of weddings, through the excitement of the first destination to wedding to the relief of the local wedding fifteen years later. I can even relate to her story later in the book of being the wedding guest at a significant other's friend's day. I was once the plus one, but my date hadn't bothered to RSVP for me. That's right. I was an extra guest, an inadvertent wedding crasher. I have never been so mortified as I was that night. We ended up at an empty table in the back, just the [awkward] two of us. Needless to say, he and I broke up for many reasons, some of which I you can glean from that story.

[Later I became a real wedding crasher, but that's a story for another time.]

I, like Jen, remember those first few weddings out of college. The excitement over the novelty of two people choosing to vow to spend their lives together. Meals with college friends that you would one day only see once a half-decade. Getting dressed up and praying to be a bridesmaid. The first time I traveled for a wedding and the first time I embarrassed myself at a wedding. I remember those mixed feelings about going to weddings in my early 20's single, fending off the questions about my own dating life. I remember when I learned to not invite a plus one unless they are in my life forever, because nothing ruins a group shot in the long run like an ex in the photo. I really wish I could edit both him and her out of that one photo.

But, like, Jen, I have also found peace in weddings. I love going to them now, it just took me a while to be OK with going at them alone. Now I want to go at them alone. But I have also learned so much along the way. I have some crazy stories, although I haven't had the whole accidentally-slept-with-a-married guy thing that Jen fended off before it happened. This book was well worth going through the journey with Jen. If you were married young and have been on your own separate journey, pick this book up to get an idea of what singledom at your nuptials looked and felt like. If you are a life-long single, pick up this book to see your own journey reflected. It will be worth the few hours you spend in it.

Hard copy for purchase below.

The UnAmericans: Stories

Talk about getting punched in the face by a literary piece of astoundment. (I just this very moment made up this word specifically for this book, y'all.) This is Molly Antopol's marvelous collection of short stories, The UnAmericans. 

A father fears that his daughter's Off-Broadway play will reveal his inadequacies as a parent. A woman smuggles art out of Moscow and becomes one of the greatest collectors of the dissident art movement. An actor tries to reconnect with his young son after serving time for his communist ties in the McCarthy era. A young journalist in Jerusalem takes up with a widowed father only to find that he needs her help in understanding his own daughter more than he actually needs her.

This collection was outstanding. Wholeheartedly, honestly, painstakingly outstanding. It is clear how much heart Antopol has put into each and every story and how dearly she understands and protects and sets free each of these characters in turn. Each is written with such openness and such pathos, each with an Achilles heel for family and for what it means to be human. It is a collection of stories that is insightful and moving, all while still being so raw and open about each character's humanity.

The first story in the book, "The Old World," is about a middle aged widowed owner of a dry cleaning buisness who meets a younger Ukranian immigrant; she clings to him based on their shared heritage, even though the businessman has never been to his family's home country. He asks her to marry him; she agrees. On their honeymoon to her hometown, he realizes that he will never be able to compete with the ghosts of her past. It is a shattering story that broke me. The love and the openness that this man has for his new young wife, and the willingness to go to battle with his daughter and his son-in-law over it, is enough to also break you when this mismatched couple steps into their hotel in Kiev and the walls come crumbling down.

My absolute favorite story, however, was "The Quietest Man," which tells of a man whose daughter is coming to visit. She will bring with her the draft of her soon-to-be-produced-Off-Broadway play, and he has every intention of finding out how she chooses to portray him. He is convinced this family drama must be his own nightmare, and this feeds the first days of his daughter's visit. It takes him finding a willingness to speak with his daughter as an autonomous young daughter to discover he has been walking down the wrong path the whole time. It is him that she admires, not that she despises. I found this to be a moving and heart-stopping tale of a relationship gone wrong, one that should never have been so ill in the first place but which sometimes cannot be helped. I adored this story to the depths of my soul.

I was blessed to be able to speak with Molly via webcam thanks to the MashReads hangout, and I asked her if she had ever thought of turning one of these stories into a play. Her work was so theatrical in its telling that I could see any one of these stories as either a film or a play. I could especially see the nuanced tale of "The Quietest Man" retold on stage. All of these stories were so genuine and lovingly told; I would recommend this collection effusively.

Kindle version on left, hard copy on right.

Bark: Stories

When Lorrie Moore comes out with a new collection, you get it. Because. Her latest is Bark.

A divorced man explores a new relationship only to find that his newly beloved may be mentally ill. A woman loses a friend and is taken to visit her ghost. After twenty years of marriage, a woman goes on one last family vacation in denial over her husband's apathy. A dinner party takes a turn toward malice over politics. A boiled-over musician forms a bond with an elderly neighbor and finds out what she never knew she always wanted. A wedding finds some uninvited guests and some unexpected self-discovery.

These stories all form Bark, which takes on a myriad of meanings you can seek out for yourself because you should grab up this book. I have had a penchant for short stories as of late, and I have discovered the amazement that is Lorrie Moore. (Yes, I am a bit late to the party with famous literary figures.) I was so taken with each and every one of these characters. They all hit me with a different force, some light, some hard. It's difficult to choose a favorite, but I would have to say the first story, "Debarking," is one of them. Discovering Zora's incredibly unhealthy relationship with her son and how off her rocker she really was, all through the eyes of a poor divorcee who happened upon this relationship while in denial over his own divorce and trying to emotionally reach his own young daughter. The story was snappy and witty and smirky; the characters where head-tilting and wild and uneven--and I loved it.

The other story that I would list at the top of my favorites was "Foe," the literary dinner party gone politically awry. A man and his wife are invited to Washington for a literary magazine gala, only to be sat at a table with a lobbyist. While the wife is busy speaking to the people to her right, the husband ends up in a political discussion with the lobbyist who is a Birther and a believer in the current presidential candidate as a terrorist. Sound familiar? It was amazing.

I was very struck by the undercurrent of aging as a theme in these stories. Not aging as in, "Oh, I'm getting old," but rather what happens when we step back and realize that time has gotten away from us. What happens when you are a fully grown adult, no longer able say that you were just finding yourself the way you can get away with in your 20's? Adults deal with adult-like things, and they are crazy and weird; the events that happen as an adult are very meta and often make you think, "Is this for real?" At least, that's my take.

Maybe it turns out that my life is a Lorrie Moore short story?

Kindle version on left, hard copy on right.

The Opposite of Loneliness: Essays and Stories

This collection of fiction and non-fiction by a young woman struck down in her prime was a lovely testament to life and to love. This is Marina Keegan's The Opposite of Loneliness. 

Marina graduated just two short years ago from Yale, already on her way in life with a play accepted to the New York Fringe Festival and a job at The New Yorker. Her promising young life was cut short by a car accident five days after graduation. This collection of her work, both fiction and non-fiction, assembles the oeuvre of a talented young woman who had so much ahead of her.

I was very taken wit Marina's writing style in the fiction section. She has a beautiful young voice and owns who she is (or was) as a writer, and the pain and oblivious folly of youth comes out so clearly in her work. I was particularly taken by two stories; the first was "Baggage Claim," a fairly short story that took place in Scottsboro, Alabama. The beauty of a conversation between two people that holds so much weight and unspoken feeling was what I want to read more of. There is honesty in what isn't spoken, and for a writer to get this across to her readers is simply lovely.

The other story I loved was "Hail, Full of Grace," the tale of a woman who has come back for the holidays with her adopted infant and baggage to bear. The subtle feeling that was expressed through the realization of having to face your past was palpable. Marina seemed to understand (way beyond her years) the pain of the decisions that you may not regret on a daily basis but that come back to haunt you when you least expect them. This story was gut-punchingly subtle in its laying the soul of the past bare for all to see.

In the non-fiction section my absolute favorite story was "Stability in Motion," Marina's ode to her car that helped her become who she was. Her personification of her transportation was lovely and thoughtful, and it was worth an exploration of how we treat the inanimate objects that keep us moving forward everyday in life. We take for granted everything around us in the blessings of our first world existence--do we ever stop to be grateful for all that we have?

It's heartbreaking to think that we will never be able to watch Marina grow as a writer and to see her maximize her potential as a storyteller. However, let it be known how grateful I am that she was on this earth long enough to give us a taste of her talent, her voice, and her openness to the world. More than that though--I am thankful for her willingness to share.

Kindle version on left, hard copy on right:

The Heaven of Animals: Stories

I have become more enamored of short stories as the years have passed, so I picked up David James Poissant's The Heaven of Animals early this week to make my train ride pass faster. Can you spell W-O-W?

In this collection, David James Poissant explores what we do for those whom we love, be it a friend, a lover, or a family. The collection opens with "Lizard Man," where the narrator agrees to take a loyal friend on a short road trip to see where his estranged father died only to discover whom he, the narrator, doesn't want to become. In "100% Cotton," a man is seeking out death-by-holdup only to find that sometimes you can't get what you want no matter how hard you try. Throughout this book there runs themes of family, of care, of inner psychological torment, of death (both figurative and literal), and of an attempt to right wrongs that may or may not be your fault. How do we seek out redemption when we are not always sure that it's what we want, let alone need?

My absolute favorite story in this collection was "The End of Aaron." A young woman is in love with her high school sweetheart who happens to be on anti-psychotics. When he stops taking his medicine they end up in bed for days with Aaron on a rampage about the world ending. The young woman justifies her love and devotion, even to us in the audience. Mostly, I guess, to us in the audience. In this latest fit, she falls asleep against her better judgement and she may just lose everything for which she lives.

At first I was put off by the young woman and her justification for her choices (which is in itself a sign of great writing), but then I fell intrigued by her situation and the choices she was making. It wasn't just about the justification; she truly loves this boy whom is losing his mind yet depends on her greatly. It's easy to sit back and want to slap her over the head; it takes great pathos on the part of the writer to create a character that has such a deep and desperate want that she is willing to put her own life on the line to achieve it. There was something even beyond desperation in this woman--it was almost as if she was finding a way to forgive herself more than Aaron for his own sickness. Her devotion was pure, but be cautious in loving too much--the cut will ultimately be deep.

I was intrigued by these stories, but I was also strangely moved. Who is this man, who can tug at my heartstrings without my understanding why? This collection points out our need for forgiveness not just from others, but ultimately from ourselves--often the hardest to find and to accept.

Kindle version on left, hard copy on right.