Oct 28, 2022·edited Oct 28, 2022Liked by Becky Tuch
There wasn't a cluck in the bunch, as my southern grandfather used to say. (disclaimer, I had two stories in the issue.) Each story had something that made my breath clutch in my throat. And the writing was glorious. The herons, with the narrator running along side. in Je Banach's lovely Big Bird, And Alan Rossi's beautiful story about the ways we do and don't overcome our pasts, "Because his blood, family or not, related or not was also hers, was everyones" and in Tunnel Vision , by Macey Phillips, the recently fired man says about his at-home wife: "She could have been doing anything—reading a book, or taking a class at university, or fucking the brains out of a lover. But no, she was folding underwear into neat, tidy squares..." You can feel how suffocated his is by his new at-home life. And in "How Lovely to be Made of Wax" a bored dental hygenist is drawn to a strange wax museum "steadying his frame from the slight rocking she caused by pulling his tie, then rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to the lips of President Bill Clinton, wax." The ending of this story is hysterical and just right. And in Everything Bagel, the relationship between the two women, one who has sought it out after so many years, and one who has no idea, is funny and aching. "Milly calls me Everything, only on account of the part I play, when I want it to mean so much more." Blake Johnson's story Health, about three men looking for drugs, was incredible. The writing blew me away. "He was shaped in odd proportions, lugging around a gelatinous torso on slim, dancer's legs. He waggled his eyebrows a the worst times and spoke often about his wife and kids, who had long abandoned him, in tones of bored affection." Becky already spoke at length about the fascinating story "The Faith Healer." "So Long the Rearview " wings you along as if you are in that shitty van, the perfectly choreographed ride. In "Little Free Library" the narrator's life is like her text exchange with a former lover: "the dots swim back and forth as he typed and erased and retyped. Then nothing. Then minutes later, a thumbs up." The sad and hysterical "Stuck" had me inhaling the story just like this: "You're saying you coincidentally had a twin sister named Thea? All three of them nodded. And she died? All three of them nodded. How old were you? Not even a month. Look. I don't think we want to hear the story of your dead twin sister Thea, okay? Yeah we do! Miles said." Every word.
Thanks Michael Nye for putting together such an amazing group of stories. And I just loved the cover art.
Beautiful observations, Susan. And thank you for bringing attention to the stories that I did not mention here. The whole issue is so rich. I went for a deep dive into a few stories rather than cover them all, including yours, which were gorgeous! I look forward to the live conversation so we can talk more about all the work here and hear from contributors about their own processes.
Do we send questions to editor here? I was wondering how contributors are chosen? Are these stories from the slush pile? Who reads the slush pile? Do author bios matter when choosing? A detailed look into how the editor chose stories for this issue.
I read the Summer issue a while back when it first appeared in our mail. My recall of the complete set is a bit hazy, but 'Stuck' has stuck to me. (Different meaning of stuck.) I was particularly taken by how skillfully Green crafted the first person narrator. This woman is really messed up, a talent going down the tubes, but she's not yet beyond redemption. (After all, she gives up her vodka for a pizza.) Reminds me of Kirstin Valdez-Quade's narrator in "Mojave Rats," and Amy Lin's story "Hallelu Rides." Plus, I thought Green comes up with a satisfying ending, so the piece is much more than a tableau. Banach's story "Big Bird" has also stuck with me as a cut loose, unhinged portrait of an ordinary person driven to extremes.
I love this issue. I also loved Green's story a lot, so this being her first published one is great. Overall, there's a bit of a tone I hadn't expected. I'm 68 and think of younger people as having all turned very, very positive at some point, as opposed to us angry and dissipated youths and young adults in the 60s and 70s and even 80s. But maybe the crud of the last few years has erased all the bright food and vacation self-portraits, and now we're back to reality, a little bit down and out. Does anyone else know what I mean?
There wasn't a cluck in the bunch, as my southern grandfather used to say. (disclaimer, I had two stories in the issue.) Each story had something that made my breath clutch in my throat. And the writing was glorious. The herons, with the narrator running along side. in Je Banach's lovely Big Bird, And Alan Rossi's beautiful story about the ways we do and don't overcome our pasts, "Because his blood, family or not, related or not was also hers, was everyones" and in Tunnel Vision , by Macey Phillips, the recently fired man says about his at-home wife: "She could have been doing anything—reading a book, or taking a class at university, or fucking the brains out of a lover. But no, she was folding underwear into neat, tidy squares..." You can feel how suffocated his is by his new at-home life. And in "How Lovely to be Made of Wax" a bored dental hygenist is drawn to a strange wax museum "steadying his frame from the slight rocking she caused by pulling his tie, then rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to the lips of President Bill Clinton, wax." The ending of this story is hysterical and just right. And in Everything Bagel, the relationship between the two women, one who has sought it out after so many years, and one who has no idea, is funny and aching. "Milly calls me Everything, only on account of the part I play, when I want it to mean so much more." Blake Johnson's story Health, about three men looking for drugs, was incredible. The writing blew me away. "He was shaped in odd proportions, lugging around a gelatinous torso on slim, dancer's legs. He waggled his eyebrows a the worst times and spoke often about his wife and kids, who had long abandoned him, in tones of bored affection." Becky already spoke at length about the fascinating story "The Faith Healer." "So Long the Rearview " wings you along as if you are in that shitty van, the perfectly choreographed ride. In "Little Free Library" the narrator's life is like her text exchange with a former lover: "the dots swim back and forth as he typed and erased and retyped. Then nothing. Then minutes later, a thumbs up." The sad and hysterical "Stuck" had me inhaling the story just like this: "You're saying you coincidentally had a twin sister named Thea? All three of them nodded. And she died? All three of them nodded. How old were you? Not even a month. Look. I don't think we want to hear the story of your dead twin sister Thea, okay? Yeah we do! Miles said." Every word.
Thanks Michael Nye for putting together such an amazing group of stories. And I just loved the cover art.
Beautiful observations, Susan. And thank you for bringing attention to the stories that I did not mention here. The whole issue is so rich. I went for a deep dive into a few stories rather than cover them all, including yours, which were gorgeous! I look forward to the live conversation so we can talk more about all the work here and hear from contributors about their own processes.
Can't wait!
Do we send questions to editor here? I was wondering how contributors are chosen? Are these stories from the slush pile? Who reads the slush pile? Do author bios matter when choosing? A detailed look into how the editor chose stories for this issue.
You made me buy the issue! And now impatient till my copy arrives!
I read the Summer issue a while back when it first appeared in our mail. My recall of the complete set is a bit hazy, but 'Stuck' has stuck to me. (Different meaning of stuck.) I was particularly taken by how skillfully Green crafted the first person narrator. This woman is really messed up, a talent going down the tubes, but she's not yet beyond redemption. (After all, she gives up her vodka for a pizza.) Reminds me of Kirstin Valdez-Quade's narrator in "Mojave Rats," and Amy Lin's story "Hallelu Rides." Plus, I thought Green comes up with a satisfying ending, so the piece is much more than a tableau. Banach's story "Big Bird" has also stuck with me as a cut loose, unhinged portrait of an ordinary person driven to extremes.
I love this issue. I also loved Green's story a lot, so this being her first published one is great. Overall, there's a bit of a tone I hadn't expected. I'm 68 and think of younger people as having all turned very, very positive at some point, as opposed to us angry and dissipated youths and young adults in the 60s and 70s and even 80s. But maybe the crud of the last few years has erased all the bright food and vacation self-portraits, and now we're back to reality, a little bit down and out. Does anyone else know what I mean?
Do you mean a tone in Green's story or a tone to the issue overall?