Craft Issue: Expositions

Last week, during one of my “moments” (I suck at life; I’m not good at anything; I’m a failure and will be so for the rest of my life; etc.) I began to wonder what I really learned from all the books I’ve read. I read a lot of fiction--novels, plays, short stories--and convince myself that all this reading isn’t just for fun but absolutely essential to my learning as a scholar of literature and a fiction writer. However, I feel that most of the time I’m just trying to finish whatever it is I’m reading as quickly as possible and don’t really absorb much of what I’m reading. Once in a while I would spend some time doing close-reading or discussing different literary elements in the work, but that is very rare because I am such a slow reader and taking the time to do that just makes the reading take even longer. Well, on that day I felt that all the reading I had done had amounted to nothing, that it was all a waste of time because I had gained nothing in the process. (I told you I was having one of those moments.) In an attempt to not ever feel like that again, I have decided to spend more time paying attention to the things I read.

One of the problems that I’m constantly dealing with is the fact that I feel like I’m worse of a writer than I used to be when I was younger and knew less. It didn’t make any sense and it pissed me off. I studied hard because I thought it would help me, but instead it made me feel completely clueless about my craft. In an attempt to keep myself from just ending this life once and for all, I decided to deny the fact and change it. This is my philosophy: if you don’t like anything the way it is, deny it and make it good. That is, I refuse to accept the fact that all my hard work is worthless, and will now make something out of it--something grand. So, yesterday I decided to learn--or, rather, relearn--about one of the craft issue in fiction writing, which was how to write an exposition. I must have spent some time in college pondering over this issue in class or in my own private studies, but it had been a while so it wasn’t a bad idea to return to it once again. I went over a few short stories I had recently read in my new anthology of short stories and paid attention to how the authors started their stories. All I did was observe, and I spent very little time doing it.

Gaitskill’s “Romantic Weekend”
Began by introducing one of the protagonists (there are two) and her problem: she was having an affair with a married man and she had self-esteem issue. The story is about these two people and their S/M relationship, which isn’t introduced here just yet.

Ford’s “Rock Springs”
Began with introducing the narrator and another main character in the story, as well as the journey they are on together. Then it tells us the troubles each of them is in so that we get to know them and their situations right away. In one paragraph, Ford tells us the who, what, and where of the story, which I find pretty neat.

Dybek’s “Chopin in Winter”
The first paragraph is rather short in comparison to those of the other stories I’m discussing here. It introduces two main characters in the story, neither of whom is the narrator/protagonist. The paragraph didn’t tell us much about the story, but it was probably the best way to begin the story, since the story is about the narrator’s relationships with these two characters.

Braverman’s “Tall Tale from the Mekong Delta”
The first paragraph of this storIssuey gives us one piece of information after another. It introduced the narrator, where she is in life, and the time in which the story takes place. We learn more and more about her, then about another main character. It tells us a lot about the narrator and refrains from telling us what the story is about.

Just by observing these works I feel more confident in my ability to write expositions. I think I will be spending more time paying attention to these craft issues and see how it helps me. At the least it should make me feel more secure in my knowledge of fiction writing.

"Distance" by Raymond Carver

A few days ago I was having a conversation with my friend Don about Raymond Carver. We expressed our admiration for his work, especially his ability to tell intensely painful stories in a simple writing style. Some writers receive praise for their flowery prose or the complexity of their language, but a series of small paragraphs compacted into a concise story, which gives the same effect as a punch in the stomach or a slap on the face, is no less of an achievement.

Once in a while between reading big books I would read a few stories from my Carver collection, "Where I'm Calling From: Selected Stories"--a classic. Having not done so in a while, and being reminded of it by the conversation, I pulled the book out of the shelf and started reading from where I left off--a story called "Distance."

In the story, a father recounts to his daughter the story of when she was a baby, on the night when her parents were kept awake by her crying. It is about the relationship of a young, impoverished couple and the emotional struggle in their relationship. It is also about the mortality of love, which is a theme that I have seen in his other stories. What I like about it is the way he portrays a troubled relationship while hinting that there is another side of the story that isn't being told. While all we see is two people fighting, we also know that there are days when they are happy together, even though he doesn't tell us about it--it is integrated into the fight, as if they fight to show their love and longing for each other. While I don't like that he portrays the female character as the hysterical mother, I feel he does justice to motherhood anxiety and the feeling of being left behind to do all the work alone.

I have no conclusion for this. It's a good story. Get the book. Read the stories.

"Cinnamon Skin" by Edmund White

This is my first Edmund White, and a tragically beautiful short story. It is written to seem autobiographical, but as always we should never make that assumption. Besides, there is always some degree of fabrication in all autobiographies.

The story begins with the narrator introducing himself and the people in his life. Many characters are introduced, and it seems at first like a great opening chapter of a novel. The characters are developed through small events, told in flashbacks. Later, the story turn to its main event, which is the narrator's trip to Acapulco with his father and stepmother, and turns into a story about sexual discovery.

The way the narrator sees the world helps us to see who he is. There are moments when nothing monumental happens, but so much about the character is realized through his commentary about gender roles and stems from his interactions with other characters, and sometimes through his sexual arousal caused by the sights of men he sees throughout the story. How often do writers ask themselves what important event they can come up with so that they can have a great story and develop a great character? Sometimes, when the character already exists vividly in our mind, all we have to do is to let him live and so much will be revealed. The way he sees things can show us who he is, and the things he believes in can affect the way he lives his life and the relationships he has with others.

White uses very few dialogues, yet the story moves quickly and is captivating throughout. Nobody would think to ask if there are too many or too few dialogues if there are the right amount of them. I don't think there is one amount that is appropriate for every story; these things need to come naturally. White seems to let the dialogues emerge naturally, and the voices of the main characters sound clearly to me even though they are heard so rarely.

As is clearly demonstrated in this story, White is a superb writer. Aside from being a great craftsman, he also has a poetic voice and a shameless honesty that is required in order to fill his fiction with truth. I highly recommend "Cinnamon Skin."

Note on Reading Short Stories.

Short stories and short poems are the two things that I don't spend nearly as much time on as I should. They are just as important to my studies as the bigger works, since I study literature and want to know about all literatures. A big aspect of reading that I enjoy is the satisfaction of having read something big, which is probably why I don't read shorter works much.

But because one needs to read what one writes, I need to read short stories more. I often find answers to problems I have with my writing in reading short stories; a good story often contains examples of all the things you need when you have writer's blocks. It is also stimulating to read a brief, self-contained piece of work that is truly brilliant. Great short stories writer can make the characters so interesting you remember them the way you remember characters in novels. I had a discussion in a writing class a while back, in which we discovered that most of the stories we had read for the class focused on the characters than the plots. This, of course, isn't true to all short stories, but I have discovered that this proves to be true in most of the stories that I have read. And I enjoy these stories tremendously.

Reading short stories can help you to discover authors with whom you are not familiar. It is a quick way to get to know their writing styles. There are many authors whose names I recognize but whose works I have never read. Reading their stories help me to decide whether or not I want to read their works.

Last week I went and bought a new short story anthology--it was published in 2008, so not that new, but new to me. It is titled "The Ecco Anthology of Contemporary American Short Fiction" selected by Joyce Carol Oates and Christopher R. Beha. So far I have read two great stories, one of which is "The Love of My Life" by T.C. Boyle, which I highly recommend. I might write a more in depth discussion on it later.

"Possible Side Effects" by Augusten Burroughs

I wouldn't consider Augusten Burroughs one of my favorite writers, but he is one of the contemporary writers whose works I follow. And by follow I don't mean that I read all of his works as soon as they come out; what I mean is that I am in touch with what he has published, and do choose to read his work when I have the time, or when I feel like reading something that isn't too serious. I have read two of his autobiographies, "Running with Scissors" and "Dry." The former I found intriguing in a disturbing and compelling way; the latter I thought was enjoyable though a bit too contrived and overwritten at times. I also read his collection of stories/essays entitled "Magical Thinking," which was thoroughly entertaining, though some of his jokes were simply in bad taste. (Saying that he was responsible for the return of Elizabeth Smart to her family, jeering about her being raped, for example.)

I spent the last couple of months reading "Possible Side Effects," another collection of essays, and found it to be worse than any of the books mentioned above. I thought the stories were neither interesting nor funny. The jokes were so dumb you would laugh more watching sitcoms on CW. I remember very few occasions when I actually laughed or chuckled while reading this book. Mostly I just found his narrative infuriatingly obnoxious.

Burroughs is often compared to David Sedaris; their styles are somewhat similar, although I would say Burroughs's is much darker. I prefer Sedaris, because I find him overall more intelligent; his comedy derives from his witty view on uncommon and oftentimes unfortunate situations. I also find that Sedaris has a more intellectual approach to writing; Burroughs writing often sounds like a dictated manuscript of a stand-up comedy show.

But to judge Burroughs by comparing him to Sedaris would be unfair. Any criticisms I have for "Possible Side Effects" come from my experience reading the book alone. I kept waiting for a good story, or a good joke, but what I found were mostly pointless, badly written stories that neither entertain nor offer anything for me to think about. When I read "Running with Scissors," I thought Burroughs had an original voice, and I admired his courage to tread on such dark and risky territories. I don't find that in this book; even his unique voice lost its authenticity and sounds more like an imitation of a bitchy, stereotypical gay guy. I still believe that Burroughs has something to contribute to the literary world, but I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone who had never been exposed to him before--they may never want to read any more of him.

Raymond Carver's "What's in Alaska?"

Dying for some entertainment, I picked up my collection of short stories by Raymond Carver that I purchased a while back, and read a story called "What's in Alaska?" The story is about two couples, Jack and Mary, and Carl and Helen. Though short, it is filled with puzzles that beg us literary scholars/nerds to analyze. I don't know if I understand the story fully, but that is the beauty of it.

The story opens with Jack buying a new pair of shoes. After getting home his wife Mary remarks that she doesn't like the color but that it looks comfortable. This could be the symbolism for their marriage, or perhaps their lives in the place they currently reside. Mary later tells Jack that she had been interviewed and is likely to get a job in Alaska. Later that night they got together with their friends. While high on hookah, the same question keeps coming up without ever being answered: "What's in Alaska?"

Perhaps there is nothing in Alaska. The party seems concerns with what Jack is going to be doing in Alaska. Not once does anybody mention the fact that they are moving there because of Mary's job. There is also a slight hint of an adulterous desire between Carl and Mary--or perhaps it only seems so because we see it through Jack's gaze. The couple does not seem to be in a perfectly happy state, especially in comparison to their friends. There is also a curious remark by Carl: "Cindy's got to learn to hunt if we're going to Alaska." Earlier when Jack tells Carl and Helen the news, Carl and Helen seems resolved, either seriously or jokingly, that they will go to Alaska too. The relationship between these four are unclear; they seem to be close friends, but what is the degree of this closeness? Carver seems to consciously leave out these details. Perhaps he wants us to make for ourselves who these people are to each other.

Despite not getting the whole picture, I really enjoyed reading this story and thinking about it afterward. Carver is known as one of the best American short story writer, and this collection has never failed to deliver whenever I turn to it in need of inspiration.


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***SPOILER ALERT***

This story has a very interesting ending. Jack is about to turn out the light and go to sleep when he thinks he sees a set of eyes gleaming in the dark hallway, staring at him. He picks up one of his shoe and waits for whatever it is that watches him to move before throwing the shoe at it. It remains a mystery what this "thing" is. Prior to the scene, Mary and Jack have a peculiar conversation, tinted with anger and ambiguity. Mary wants something to smoke, and Jack tells her there is nothing. She asks for something to drink and he gives her a beer, not certain that she actually wants it. She then realizes she hasn't taken her pill, and after taking it she is too tired to even put the can of beer away herself. Following the relationship between these two closely all the way throughout the story will probably reveal more about the state of their relationship. They seem dysfunctional but try to keep themselves together for an unclear reason--perhaps it hasn't got to the point where they want to break it off yet. Maybe, like Jack's new shoes, the relationship works despite seeming imperfect.

Daniel Defoe's "In Defense Of His Right"

Without meaning to, I ended up reading three short stories that somewhat align with Halloween, two of which I have previously blogged about. Last night before heading out to a party, I managed to squeeze in a short story. This one is a part of the collection of English short stories that I also bought from some book sale. The story is "In Defense Of His Right" by Daniel Defoe.

I had never read anything by Defoe before, and the only thing I know about him is that he is the author of "Robinson Crusoe". I find his gothic story much more engaging than that of Poe. It is about a father who is tormented by the disappearance of his son, whose second wife keeps compelling him to will his fortunes to her son. Several visits by a strange apparition stands in the second wife's way of getting what she wants, and in the end it remains unclear whose apparition it is.

The story is more intriguing and leaves a more long-lasting impression because of the remaining mystery. It leaves the reader to ask question about the apparition, as well as the nature of greed and the bond between family members. The structure is linear, and the story is told mostly in the narrative form. Unlike Poe he doesn't take much time describing the settings; he doesn't use the environment to create the mood. While Poe's prose is much denser, Defoe's pacing is faster and more captivating. I wouldn't say whose style is better, but I do like Defoe's story better, just because the plot is more complex and intriguing.

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This is the part where I summarize the story for my own personal use. ***SPOILER ALERT***

After the father had married the typical greedy, evil step-mother, things had changed in the family. The oldest son wants to go abroad but the step-mother doesn't want him to, not wanting her husband to spend money on his expenses. With the help of other relative, the son is able to go. When the step-mother denies her husband the ability to pay the son's bills, the son disappears and the father cannot reach him. The step-mother tries to convince the father that the son is dead so her son with him can inherit his fortune, but the father refuses to believe it. An apparition of the son appears to haunt the step-mother as she compels her husband to comply to her desire. In the end the son shows up--he isn't dead, after all--and has no idea about the apparition. While abroad he has a dream that the father is writing him an angry letter telling him to come home. The father also never writes such a letter. My take on it is that the apparition is the mother who is dead, as she is the only dead character who is invested in the father and the son's well-being, who is most likely to dislike the step mother.

Ray Bradbury's "Invisible Boy"

One of the best investments I have ever made in my life is buying a copy of "The Vintage Bradbury", which is a collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury. It isn't because I got it at a book sale for a dollar, but because it is full of amazing stories that really show what a genius Bradbury really is. A lot of his stories fall somewhere between science fiction and magic realism (although I have never heard anybody consider him in the latter category), which aren't my favorite genres, but he writes them so well that I always find myself engaged in his stories.

I am halfway into the collection--I don't read it continually--and had just finished "The Invisible Boy", a story about an old woman who wants to adopt a boy against his will and ends up tricking him into believing that she has turned him invisible. I find it a little creepy and quite endearing. Most of the story is told in scenes--that is, dialogues between characters. He jumps right into the story, giving so much back story in so few words. Within a few pages and with very minimal narrations, we get to know exactly who these characters are. The plot isn't super complex or dense; the structure is linear, and there is a clear beginning, middle, and ending. This story is a perfect example of the kind of guidance that I need when I feel lost while figuring out how to write--period. It points out the obvious answers that I find so easy to forget for some reason.

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This is the part where I summarize the story for my own personal use. ***SPOILER ALERT***

The story resembles that of the fairy tale "The Emperor's New Clothes" in that the boy is tricked into believing that he has something that he doesn't--invisibility. The resemblance is most obvious when the boy, thinking that he is invisible, takes off his clothes and dances around. The old lady is creepy in nature, but she is also a pitiable character because she is lonely; her affection for the boy, as she claims, is of a mother to a son. The heart of the scene is in the end when the boy is gone and she pretends like he is there, invisible. The story could be read in a controversial view as the old lady could be a representation of a pedophile.

Edgar Allan Poe's "Fall of the House of Usher"

Because I spend most of my time reading novel or play, sometimes I find it difficult to write a short story. I constantly need to read short stories in order to be able to write them. The reason, I assume, is because different formats of writing work your brain in different ways; if I only use my brain to work with the novel and play formats, I will then have no ability to write in other format. So, whenever I run into problems while writing a story, such as not being able to structure it properly, or find a way to start or execute it, it always helps to find a few short stories to read.

A friend of mine suggested that I be Edgar Allan Poe for Halloween. I don't know why, but it did make me want to read Poe's work. Long ago I bought his complete tales and poems, but had spent very little time with it. I decided to read one of his short stories. I read "The Fall of the House of Usher", which is a story about a man reuniting with his dying friend in a house where creepy things happen. I'm not really a fan of gothic stories and wasn't quite taken by the plot. But what is really marvelous about Poe's writing is his descriptions. He is a beautiful prose writer, and he writes such lush descriptions that it is sometimes easy to get lost in his writing, but if you pay close attention, it's pretty much a big plate of assorted desserts made of words. Let's take a look at a passage from it:

The room in which I found myself was very large and lofty. The windows were long, narrow, and pointed, and at so vast a distance from the black oaken floor as to be altogether inaccessible from within. Feeble gleams of encrimsoned light made their way through the trellissed panes, and served to render sufficiently distinct the more prominent objects around; the eye, however, struggled in vain to reach the remoter angles of the chamber, or the recesses of the vaulted and fretted ceiling. Dark draperies hung upon the walls. The general furniture was profuse, comfortless, antique, and tattered. Many books and musical instruments lay scattered about, but failed to give any vitality to the scene. I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. An air of stern, deep, and irredeemable gloom hung over and pervaded all.

The physical descriptions help us to see the place and the objects inside it vividly. At the same time they also convey the feelings that they spark in the narrator. The vastness of the room is repeatedly emphasized to the point that we feel small and lost in the room. The dark colors that he use ("black oaken floor", "gleam of encrimsoned light") emphasize the mystery and a sense of danger. The disorderly of the place conveys its state of abandonment and sadness. I just love the way he describes the furniture: "profuse, comfortless, antique, and tattered"--four adjectives that bring the picture and the emotion to life.

Sometimes you find the answers to all your problems in one story; most of the time, however, you need to read more than one. I feel like I gain a lot from reading this story, but not enough, so I will go on and read more stories. You do the same.

Lorrie Moore's "Self-Help" (part 2)

I finally finished Lorrie Moore's "Self-Help." My opinion of it stays the same as the last time I wrote about it--the stories are great individually, but the repetitiousness makes Moore seem a weaker writer than what she is. You often hear people say that writers should write what they know, but if all you know is cancer and adultery and going insane then perhaps you should learn some new things.

In the last story of the collection entitled "To Fill," Moore experiments with a style different from her other stories. She uses no quotation marks and very minimal commas in order to replicate an inner voice of a woman slowly driven to madness. The story is similar to previous stories in the collection; her husband is having an affair, she is unsatisfied with her life, her mother is sick, she is sick, et cetera. As always Moore has the ability to thoroughly explores the mentality of her narrator and convey it beautifully on the page, but after reading several similar stories these insights can be quite boring. How many hysterical women fighting with how many cheating husbands can you stand? (The first story of the collection, "How to Be an Other Woman," is probably the most unique, as it is about the other woman for a change and not a victimized wife.)

I'm not exactly riveted by "To Fill." It is rather long and contains too many issues: depression, amnesia, adultery, theft, et cetera. It's not a good story to end the collection, because it doesn't really offer enough magic. I was more captivated by other stories in the middle and think they would serve better as a closure. However, Moore's ability to entertain and capture attention never disappoints; she keeps me reading even when she has no surprises left. Though each narrator is different, their voices are still similar. As gifted a writer as she is, her range and versatility stand to be better. I would say buy the book, read one story, put it away and go read other things, come back to it after a few months and read the next story. You will appreciate it more that way.

Lorrie Moore's "Self-Help"

I've been reading Lorrie Moore's short stories collection called "Self-Help." The stories are good individually, but reading them back to back can get a little boring. She is a bit repetitious, recycling the same themes like adultery and cancer over and over. She sometimes uses second-person narrative, which she does well. Despite the repetition I find it a real page-turner.

The story I just read this afternoon is called "Amahl and the Night Visitors: A Guide to the Tenor of Love." It is about a woman in a dysfunctional relationship with an opera singer, who is convinced that her boyfriend is having an affair with someone else. I read it out loud, and bursted out laughing unexpectedly at one point. Her joke caught me off-guard. Later the opposite happened; I came across a sentence that made me start crying.

I'm not going to quote the sentence because somebody might want to read it, and I do hope that you do read this collection. But the sentence struck me because it says something to me so directly. It didn't offer anything that never crossed my mind before. Instead it said something that I have heard myself say before, maybe in my journal, or out loud to myself. It made me think of people I had loved, who had left. Sometimes you come across a work of art that speaks so honestly, and speaks directly at you, right to your heart, and it affects you so tremendously. That's when the most powerful form of catharsis happens.

Whoever you are, if you read, I hope you find something that touches you, that affects you. I have this ability to kind of feel along with anything I read, but only once in a while does something sweep me over like this. I know I would be reading anyway even if moments like this never happens. But when it does, gosh, it reminds me why I love reading.

Reading

There are things you learn or should have learned in high school Comp. Lit. class that, instead of becoming a part of you or the reader than you are, you tend to forget. Or maybe I'm just talking about myself. Anyway, sometimes paying attention to the most "basic" things is what makes a reader a good reader. These things, which are basic because they are taught in high school, concern the construction of a work of literature. Since I'm on fire today I'm gonna talk about them now.

First of all, you know how in like every novel you read there are scenes or chapters that make you think, "Oh my god this is so boring! Get to the main story line already!" Well, that always happens to me. But when I was reading "Mockingbird" I found myself questioning, "OK, why does the family have to spend their Christmas holiday out of town with their extended family?" "Why are we introduced to Uncle Jim if he's not going to appear again through the rest of the novel?" "What's the significance of the chapter with the mad dog?" It's true, sometimes these chapters mean nothing; the authors perhaps came up with them and love them so much that they can't possibly take these chapters out. But when you read a work by somebody as brilliant as Harper Lee, these chapters do mean something. So when you consider them in relations to the character development, or the theme of the story, you find the significance, and you realize how intelligently the work is constructed. The very thing you see is, in sum, the craft.

You know how in high school or middle school we do things like mapping out the story? That's when we point out the rising action of the story, the climax, the falling action, etcetera. Well, who does that outside of class? I don't, and in most works you simply can't; it's not that straightforward. Nonetheless, it is still important to pay attention to the themes and how they are explored, the characters and what they represent, and how the message(s) of the book are conveyed. These are all craft issues; as a reader you gain a deeper understanding of the story when you pay attention to them; as a writer there is no other way to learn to write better than to pay attention to these things. At least that's what I think.


This morning I read Raymond Carver's short story called "Nobody Said Anything." Already I should be asking, "What does the title mean?" I don't want to spoil the story because I think everybody should read it, but here are some of the crafty things I find while reading the story:

-The age of the narrator is never mentioned directly. But you can guess that he's a boy who has recently reached puberty by the constant reference to his sexuality, masturbation and sexual fantasies.
-It's not perfectly clear whether his brother is older or younger than him. I thought the scene in the beginning made him seem older than the narrator. However later on the narrator encounters a boy who is supposed to be about the same age as his brother, but the narrator refers to him as a "kid."
-The themes of the story, I find, is family in relations to the follow: safety, sex, shame, fishing, and pride. I can write essay on each of these things, but I won't. At least not on here.
-The story is "a day in a life" sort of story, and it goes around in circle; the narrator starts off at home, goes out, meets a woman, goes fishing, meets a boy, fishes, and comes back home; he also deals with a fight between his mom and dad in the beginning, and comes home in the end to the same thing.

So, that's kind of like something I do every once in a while when I'm reading.

This and That

I have spent the past couple of months being completely obsessed with the theater. I wanted to start writing for the stage, so I read a lot of plays and studied everything I could about playwriting and the theater. The downside of that is that I have become unable to accomplish anything. While struggling to write my first play, it had been impossible for me to write anything else. In an attempt to fix that, I decided to get back into writing short stories again.

In order to do so, I have to start reading short stories, so I go and check out a collection of short stories from the library. After browsing through the collection and reading some of them, I become rather disappointed. There is nothing about the stories that I find innovative. They are well written, don't get me wrong, but the stories are just not interesting. It seems to me that these writers have great ability but nothing of importance to tell. It's a wonder that they have won the notable prizes that got them into the collection. One of them, for example, is about a college student who sleeps with her professor to get a better grade and to steal his money. The main character is well developed, but there just isn't much in the story. I even find some of its elements cliche, like the professor character, for example. Many writers mention that it is important to get to know what is being published these days, what is currently considered good, but I find that most of the things that I have read that are on the market has nothing to compare to the classics, which are mostly what I read. I'm not sure what is going on in the literary world today, but I do not like it.

Putting that away, I return to my collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury, who I think is one of the best writers that ever lived, especially in America. His stories always give me inspiration; they have helped me through many writer's blocks over the years. But reading and learning from the same writer after a while can also become a bit of a bore. So I decide to pick up some new collections--ones that I have heard mentioned and recommended for so long but haven't gotten a chance to get to. These are Raymond Carver's "Where I'm Calling From," Tim O'Brien's "Things They Carried," and Lorrie Moore's "Self-Help." I have read some stories from these collections, and it is time to read all of them.

I started with Carver's story entitled "Nobody Said Anything," which is marvelous and exactly what I need. There will be some sort of an analysis on the story in a later entry.

James Joyce's Dubliners

I just finished reading Jame Joyce's "Dubliners" which is great. It is a collection of short stories; some of these stories are so brilliant I am sure to spend some more time studying them individually later. It is interesting to read a collection of short stories as a book; these stories are put together in the same collection for a reason, so when you read them together you try to find some sort of an arc that links them together. But by doing so it is hard not to consider what the collection has to say about the author, or what the author's intention is for writing them and putting them together. You may have already known from some of my previous entries that I have absolutely no interest in an author's intent. So, reading it this way is...quite intersting.

I didn't enjoy some of the stories, or parts of some of the stories, which makes me feel like they shouldn't be read as a collection. And like I said, some of them are so brilliant that I wish I had read them separately. And I will. Later.

Joyce is one of those authors whose voice is so distinct to me. There is a tone that underscore his writing, which to me is what hold these stories together. I didn't spend any time analyzing his style so I can't say exactly what it is about his voice that is different, but I feel the same way about him that I feel about William Saroyan or Jane Austen; these voices convey a sense of place, making the settings of the stories just as important as the lives of the characters and all the other elements.

This and That #2

It's been a while!

I have been reading, swear to god, just haven't been having much time to update this blog. Anyway, last time I intended to write about short stories, but when I sat down to do it my memory just went blank. But I remember now that I was going to recommend The Vintage Bradbury, a short story collection by the marvelous Ray Bradbury. I haven't read the whole thing yet, but I have read several stories, and so far they were amazing. People tend to call his works science fiction, but I see them more as early variations of magic realism.

Also, read immediately, Tim O'Brien's On the Rainy River. FANTASTIC writing.

More to come when I have more time to think.

This and That #1

So, I waited too long to write a post about short stories, and now I can't write about them anymore because it has been too long since I read them. I would reread them but I seriously do not have time with school going on and all the things that I have to read. But let me suggest the following:

The Enormous Radio by John Cheever
Roman Fever by Edith Wharton
How to be an Other Woman by Lorrie Moore

These are fantastic writings. Check them out.

I'm doing an independent study on modern and contemporary American drama. I just finished reading Paula Vogel's How I Learned to Drive, a superb play about a young girl becoming a woman while having a sexual affair with her uncle in law. It raises questions about the nature of pedophilia and statutory rape, and gives a very interesting take on a character that we might have otherwise condemned.

I also read Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman, which is depressing to read, especially during the time where our economy is fucked. But it is a great play. The characters are multi-dimensional and very intriguing to study. What I love about Arthur Miller is that his works (the 4 that I have read) all have timeless qualities. These are the plays that readers and audiences will always be able to relate to. He is very Shakespearean in that way.

The rest of summer reading

When I started this blog, I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted it to be. I didn't want to write book reviews, I didn't want to praise or condemn any books, I just want to write about them. I guess what I find most fascinating are the things that I come across and decide to read, whether I enjoy them or not. I just think it's interesting why somebody chooses to read something, and I hope that my choices are interesting to you too.

These are the books that I read this summer which haven't been previously featured:

On Writing - a memoir about writing by Stephen King
Reckless - a play by Craig Lucas
Prelude to a Kiss - another play by Craig Lucas
Our Town - Thornton Wilder

"That's what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those...of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know--that's the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness."

- Our Town

Currently I am enjoying short stories by Ray Bradbury, who truly is an amazing writer. I bought one of his collections, The Vintage Bradbury, a while back, and it is now one of the best books I own.

I read a lot of interesting short stories this summer, old and new. I might write about them in the next entry.

Face - Alice Munro

I read a lot, and I like most of the things I read. Partly because I usually choose to read works by authors that either have been revered for at least fifty years, or works by new authors that are highly acclaimed. I would say there is only about one in ever ten works I read that I don't like.

But once in a while, about one in fifteen or twenty, do I come across a work that reminds me why I read.

I subscribed to The New Yorker a couple of months ago, but I don't really have time to read it. I try to at least catch all the fictions, but usually I wouldn't get to read them until a couple of issues later. Last night I read Alice Munro's Face, which was published in the September 8th issue. (I'm not sure if it has been published before; Munro is a regular contributor to the magazine.) And it was just that kind of work. The story is about a boy with a birthmark on his face and is childhood friend. It is bittersweet and heartbreaking. And it reminds me of the magic of fiction, the magic that makes me love to read and write fiction.

Alice Munro

The only other story by Munro that I have read is How I Met My Husband. I enjoyed that one but don't think is half as impressive as Face. If you like Munro, or are looking for something amazing to read, Face is available to read for free on The New Yorker website.