The New Yorker: "Chapter Two" by Antonya Nelson

March 26, 2012: “Chapter Two” by Antonya Nelson

I’ve certainly read stories by Antonya Nelson that I liked more than this one, although there is some cleverness on display. The story is about Hil, who lives with her son Jeremy and the obese Janine, a woman who goes to AA meetings in order to meet men (that hasn’t worked out to well) and tell stories. The stories she tells are about her neighbor, Bergeron Love, who is . . . odd. It develops, though, that Bergeron has died, putting an end to Hil’s stories, until it is suggested that it is simply time for “Chapter Two.”

I do think there’s something here about storytelling and the controversial fact/fiction debate—Hil, after all, is at the AA meetings under false pretenses. So what about her stories are true? Or has she made them up? Left out details (such as Bergeron’s death)?

The Q&A with Antonya Nelson is interesting on the gap in the story about Hil’s own life—we know more about Bergeron. Nelson says in some ways Hil’s own story isn’t available to her in the same way as Bergeron’s story is. That, it seems to me, is a great observation for writers like me who are tempted to pour in more backstory than a narrative can really bear, and often it isn’t necessary. Nelson gives us one reason why it might not be necessary.

Review Review Review

This year I have been posting about literary magazines--not reviewing them, exactly, but for my own edification attempting to describe the kind of fiction those magazines publish. (See previous posts in the Year of the LitMag series.)

But there are a few websites that take a more serious approach to reviewing literary magazines, and I thought I'd mention them in case anyone reading these posts doesn't know about them.

The first that I knew about was New Pages. New Pages is a terrific resource--for contests, book reviews, lists of markets, and more--including their regular reviews of magazines. Very useful stuff. There's so much there, in fact, you'll want to explore and bookmark the site.

Then about a year ago, I guess, I became aware of The Review Review. I love it. This magazine is focused and also includes tips and editor interviews. (They did a review of Prime Number Magazine not long ago.)

And then there's Luna Park Review. I'd heard of Luna Park, but I didn't really take the time to look at it closely until they started ReTweeting my YLM posts. It turns out, though, that it's all about literary magazines. I love it!

So please read all of these other sites for great information on literary magazines. I'll continue to post my own take on magazines, just because I've got huge stacks of them and the project keeps me motivated to plow through them. But at the same time, I'm reading what these other folks have to say.

[And, by the way, if you know of other sites that do something similar, please leave a comment with the name. Thanks!]

Virginia Festival of the Book

One of the highlights of the year in this area--the literary year at any rate--is the Virginia Festival of the Book. And I can hardly believe that it's hear already. The festival this year is March 21-25.

I've scoped out a number programs I hope to attend, but so far the only thing I know for SURE that I'll see is the one that I was asked to moderate, next Friday, March 23, at 6pm, at the Charlottesville Barnes & Noble. The panel is called "Reconstructions" in which Casey Clabough, Taylor Polites, and Joe Samuel Starnes will discuss their novels. Since I haven't finished reading them yet I'm not sure how they fit together, but I'm sure it will be a terrific program.

Some other writers who are on tap over the course of the festival: Margot Livesy, Tayari Jones, Hillary Jordan, Sharyn McCrumb, Jenny Gardiner, Jill McCorkle, Lee Smith, Sandra Beasley, and many, many more.

Hope to see you there!

Year of the LitMag: Indiana Review, Vol. 33, No. 2

[This is the latest in my Year of the LitMag series. If you would be interested in doing a guest post in the series, let me know--leave a comment or send me an email--to let me know which issue of which magazine you'd like to discuss.]

Indiana Review, Vol. 33, No. 2

Indiana Review has a reputation for being a little edgy, a market for stories that are unusual in subject, style, or form. This issue ought to confirm that rep.

The first story is "The Stolen Cloned Mammoth" by Shane Castle, about two competing biotech companies, one of which sends the other a cloned woolly mammoth. Chaos ensues. Then there's Adam Schuitema's "Gunplay," which is the history of a boy's relationship with his father, from cradle to grave, told through his connection to guns. It feels fragmented (which isn't a bad thing, by the way--just ask David Shields), as does "Things to Do with an Open Wound" by Steven Ramirez, which is in the form of a list (each one amplified with an anecdote) of bad ideas. "Staccato" by Peter Tieryas Liu is also fragmented--as the title suggests. Liu is telling the story of a visitor to Beijing in a series of very short vignettes. "Palimpsest" by Kim Magowan tells of a series of sexual encounters that "don't count" for various reasons. "The Creeper" by Briandaniel Oglesby is told in longer fragments. "Practice" by James Miranda is one short fragment--a flash--and Mary Hamilton has two very short pieces that also feel fragmented. The first one, "Fucking Birds," is about Marco who "lost his face in Colorado" and "Marco" is the first word of each paragraph.

On the other hand, some of the stories are practically traditional by comparison, including "Pilanesberg" by David Guterson and "Beneath the Surface" by Amy Butcher. Guterson's story is about a brother and sister (recovering from chemo) visiting a South African game preserve. Butcher's is about a woman who's boyfriend is called home because his cousin dying. Both are good, compelling stories.

"Sam and Annie: A Kind of Love Story" by Joe Wilkins is also more or less traditional in form. It involves a 10-year-old boy who is stalking Annie, a pretty prostitute, and struggling to deal with his father, who is both a drunk and a con-man. I'm not a fan of stories about kids, but I felt sorry for this one.

So IR seems to like offbeat, although they also publish stories that are somewhat traditional.

[This issue also has several fine essays and numerous poems that I'm not able to comment on.]

Tips for Writers: Conferences

Last week, a commenter asked what my opinion of writers conferences was and whether I favored one over another, so that will be my topic today. It's a timely question because if you're thinking of doing a summer writers conference you probably need to get your application in pretty soon.

The commenter specifically asked about Sewanee, Tin House, and Bread Loaf.

I haven't been to Tin House, so I can't offer any direct comments about that conference. I can say, though, that I've known a lot of people who have gone and most (or all?) had very enthusiastic reviews. They have a pretty terrific faculty, which, as I'll discuss below, is an important consideration.

Tin House isn't the only conference I haven't been to. There are conferences in Taos, Squaw Valley, Iowa, and lots of others around the country (and elsewhere) that you might investigate. I can really only tell you about the ones I've attended: Sewanee, Bread Loaf, Tinker Mountain, Under the Volcano, and Indiana University.

Sewanee and Bread Loaf are in a class by themselves (although I think Tin House might be approaching their level). For one thing, they're incredibly difficult to get into, each having acceptance rates of 20% or less, whereas, as I understand it, most other conferences will take all comers. They are also longer. Most conferences are a week or less, but Bread Loaf is 11 days and Sewanee 12. The actual workshops (about which I'll have more to say) don't meet any more than at the other conferences, but the longer time frame gives more opportunities to take in readings, craft talks, lectures, and other activities outside of the workshop.

I like them both a lot, but as I've said frequently I give the edge to Sewanee for reasons that are difficult to articulate. The housing is more comfortable at Sewanee (unless you really like rustic). Being slightly smaller, Sewanee feels a little friendlier. There's a touch of hierarchy to both but it's a tiny bit more off-putting at Bread Loaf. On the other hand, Bread Loaf has a better offering of small craft talks offered by faculty, fellows, and visitors. But both offer outstanding faculty, wonderful social opportunities, and beautiful settings (mountaintops in Vermont and Tennessee). I also like the Sewanee approach that includes team teaching, providing additional exposure to faculty, and also creating the possibility of sitting in on some other workshops that meet on other days. In my opinion, you can't really go wrong with either one (subject to the workshop discussion below). Cost may be a deciding factor. Because of the Tennessee Williams Foundation endowment, Sewanee is way cheaper.

Tinker Mountain, located at Hollins College just outside of Roanoke, Virginia, is a good option, especially for people in the vicinity, although people come from everywhere. (I live just 80 miles away.) It has a solid faculty--they all give craft talks and readings--and a nice setting, plus it's reasonably priced.

I've been to Under the Volcano several times, working with outstanding faculty, including Russell Banks and Grace Paley. It's located in a Mexican village, Tepoztlan, so the setting is fantastic. But the offerings are irregular and I'm not sure the workshop is being done every year anymore. It's too bad, because I really enjoyed it.

So conferences, in my opinion, are worth attending because you meet lots of writers--your peers and the faculty--plus you attend readings and lectures that may be enlightening. That alone may be worth the time and money. I'm all in favor. But the heart of most of these conferences is the workshop, and that's where your consideration should lie when making your choice. Not all great writers are great teachers. Not all workshops are created equally.

Now, I have been in workshops led by famous writers who were also fantastic teachers, including Richard Bausch, John Casey, and Tim O'Brien at Sewanee, Charles Baxter at Bread Loaf, and Russell Banks and Grace Paley at Under the Volcano. I have also been in workshops with fantastic writers who were NOT so famous, but were also outstanding teachers, including Chuck Wachtel at Under the Volcano, Kevin McIlvoy at Bread Loaf, and Pinckney Benedict, Fred Leebron, and Hal Ackerman (screenwriting) at Tinker Mountain. And, finally, I've had a couple of workshops with writers/teachers I hadn't sufficiently investigated in advance. If those were my only experiences I'd probably say that conferences are a waste of time.

So, with respect to the workshop, it's all a matter of who your're going to be working with, and what you can find out about him or her. So, at Tin House, Taos, and elsewhere, check out the faculty. They have some pretty great writers in each case, but you might want to check with some people who have studied with them to find out what the experience in workshop is really like. And if you go to a conference as I did a couple of years ago and find that the workshop leader is not so wonderful, don't despair. Take advantage of all the other activities on offer and get as much out of the experience as you can.

SWAG Writers: WriterDay and OpenMic Night

SWAG Writers (the Staunton-Waynesboro-Augusta Group of Writers), the organization I started a couple of years ago, continues to grow. Tonight we had a terrific turnout for our monthly gathering--the WriterDay and OpenMic Night--which occurs on the 2nd Wednesday of each month, starting at 6pm, at the Darjeeling Café in Staunton.

Tonight's group was especially fun. We had 16 readers, including a wide variety of styles, genres, and ages. Some serious stuff, some dark stuff, and some lighter work was included. And besides the readers we had a dozen or so folks who came out just to listen (plus a few patrons of the café who had no choice).

We're grateful to the Darjeeling Café for hosting this event each month!

This month we also have a second event, a talk by Charles Shields, biographer of both Harper Lee and Kurt Vonnegut. That talk will be held on March 28, at 7pm, at the Spencer Center for Civic and Global Engagement at Mary Baldwin College. The talk is free and open to the public.

Let me know if you'd like to be on the email list to receive notice of future events.

The New Yorker: "Appreciation" by Rivka Galchen

March 17, 2012: “Appreciation” by Rivka Galchen

This story begins well. It’s written as if it were the evidentiary record in a dispute between a mother and daughter over a sum of money. The contributions and faults of each are recounted and it seems that a decision is going to be reached by the end.

The mother, a widow, was making a good salary (until she was laid off); the daughter began with a small salary but gradually did much better. The mother helped her son buy an apartment and so she did the same with her daughter, although when that apartment was sold, there was a huge profit—the appreciation—to account for. The mother is well meaning, but to her daughter she appears controlling, and in fact, she retains control of that profit.

For me, the ending was unsatisfying, and the questions are left unresolved. The climax is too subdued.

The Q&A with Rivka Galchen isn’t much help.

Tips for Writers: It's Your Vision

Only the writer knows what she is trying to do with her story. It's unquestionably useful to get the reaction of readers in order to learn whether the writer's vision is getting across, but in the end it is only the writer's vision that matters.

Recently (as in yesterday) some students of mine expressed concern that others in the workshop were trying to rewrite their stories. The comment served as a reminder to me to not only warn against doing this (my workshop guidelines make this point), but more importantly to emphasize that not every comment a writer hears in workshop will be of equal value. The purpose of the workshop is not to convene a committee for the purpose of revising a story. The workshop is a focus group--people who will reflect for the benefit of the writer the effect that the work has on readers. The writer's job--and it's not an easy one--is to pick and choose from among the comments in workshop (including comments by the teacher) to find the ones that make sense, always bearing in mind the writer's vision for the story. It could be that nothing at all will be usable, although in my experience usually some good ideas do emerge. More often, however, comments will conflict with one another. Then what does the writer do? It depends on the vision.

I'm thinking about this now as I work on revisions to my novel after receiving comments from my agent. Mostly her comments are spot-on. Occasionally, I see things differently. Ultimately, it's my name that goes on the book, so the work has to be mine. The same goes for my students.

AWP 2012 Recap: Thinking With Your Own Apparatus

"Thinking with Your Own Apparatus: Fiction Writers and History" was an interesting panel that in my view was equally applicable to historical and contemporary fiction. The bottom line has two parts: the essential details that give work authenticity AND the emotional truth of each character.

There were some excellent speakers on this panel, and I'll mention 3:

Nalini Jones, who writes about India, described trips there in which she immersed herself in the experiences that her characters would have--living in an orphanage, attending AA meetings, riding the bus, etc.--in order to render the details of their lives but also to know what they felt.

Eugenia Kim has worked at using aspects of the Korean language to create authentic dialogue, but also studied the period of Japanese colonial history in Korea about which she was writing.

And Dolen Perkins-Valdez talked about the "emotional core" rather than the details of history. She told a great story about visiting the Museum of the Confederacy in Richmond, Virginia, an emotional experience for an African American. She tried to explain her emotions to her husband when she returned home, and he observed that she was experiencing something akin to what her character--a slave woman during the Civil War--must have felt.

Good advice from three good writers.

The New Yorker: "Ever Since" by Donald Antrim

March 12, 2012: “Ever Since” by Donald Antrim

Every once in a while, the New Yorker story is actually set in New York. Often, it seems, such stories involve a cocktail party. That’s the case here, where a litigator has gone with his book-publicist girlfriend to a book launch party in an expansive loft apartment. Jonathan likes his date, Sarah, but he can’t stop thinking about Rachel, the woman who left him for another man, the woman whom he wanted to marry but had not summoned the courage to do so. At the party, he frequently refers to Rachel—what she said, what she thought—as if neither he nor Sarah has anything interesting to contribute. He drinks too much. He goes in search of cigarettes that he doesn’t find, but eventually he lights a joint that he shares with Sarah and others. He tries to propose to Sarah, using a cherry stem as a ring. She’s unimpressed, but she’s still with him at the end and they seem comfortable.

Not very exciting, as stories go, but it’s noticeable that it relies heavily on the moment. That is, there are few flashbacks, despite the fact that Jonathan is dwelling on his dead relationship with another woman. That helps make an otherwise uneventful story keep its hold on the reader, I think. A lesson worth noting. Antrim comments on that in Q&A with Donald Antrim.

AWP 2012 Recap: The Long and Short of It

First day of the conference, first time-slot, lots of panels to choose from. I picked "The Long and Short of It: Navigating the Transitions between Writing Novels and Short Stories," featuring Bruce Machart, Hannah Tinti, Melanie Thon, Erin McGraw, and Kevin Wilson.

The panel topic appealed to me because I've managed to publish stories, including one collection and one forthcoming novel-in-stories, but am now revising a novel and have started a second one. They're obviously very different animals, and I thought it would be useful to hear more experienced writers talk about this "transition."

And I found it very useful. Not that there was a lot of new information, but I was reminded of things that I hope to keep in mind. For example, Erin McGraw pointed out that unlike the novel, which is expansive, a short story does a lot of its work by inference. (I tend to want to cram a lot into a story that isn't really essential.) Hannah Tinti suggested--for both stories and novels--going back to the original seed or inspiration for a story in order to help find the way through it. And then, for her, a story is built sentence by sentence, which is not at all how she approaches the novel, which she seems to do more in blocks, moving around to write the bits she knows she needs, eventually filling in the gaps. Kevin Wilson--funny as always--talked about his approach to the story, which is to begin with a conceit. But the novel, it's the characters he cares about. He also said that a story is like stealing a car: You hop in, drive off as fast as you can, and eventually crash. With the novel, though, you just keep going!

Good advice from some very good writers!

AWP 2012 Recap: The Troublesome Novel

Last night I got home from a quick trip to Chicago for the annual AWP Conference. As always, the conference was overload--too many panels, too many people, too many parties--and of course I'm already looking forward to the next one (Boston, March 6-9, 2013).

I didn't do any blogging and very little tweeting or FB updates while I was in Chicago, so over the course of the coming week I plan to do blog posts reflecting on some the great sessions I attended.

One that I really liked was "Unrequited Love: Renewing Your Vows to the Troublesome Novel," featuring Elizabeth Brundage, Stewart O'Nan, Jenna Blum, Alice Elliot Dark, and Carole De Santi.

As Elizabeth said in her opening remarks, many writers have a novel or two or more stashed in a drawer. It may not be publishable as is, for one reason or another, but we probably all feel that there is something there worth rescuing--even if it's only an idea. These five writers talked about their experiences with these drawer manuscripts. Most of the panelists had stories of books that they wrote and couldn't or didn't get published that they came back to much later, when they finally realized what needed to be done. As someone with 2 novels in a drawer (two halves of one failed novel that I split into two failed novels), I'd love to think that there's still hope for that work, even if none of the original sentences survive.

During the Q&A session, I asked this: All of the panelists had a healthy and patient attitude toward their problem novels, and it worked out well for them in the end. What advice did they have for writers who are tempted to just turn those problem novels into eBooks and sell them on Amazon? I asked this not because I have any thoughts of doing this, but I certainly know that many writers these days don't have the patience to wait. And the panelists answered as I thought they would--careers are long things and one doesn't want to ruin a career by self-publishing something that just isn't ready; that everything can benefit from reconsideration and revision, and that there are still rewards to traditional publishing. I agree with these answers, although I doubt writers who are tempted to self-publish would be convinced.

A very good panel discussion.

Tips for Writers: Meet-up

Everyone knows that writing is a solitary profession. Sometimes too solitary. We sit at our desks and write. We talk to the computer. We talk to the dog. I don't know about you, but there are days that go by that I don't speak to another human being on the telephone.

I like it that way. I am connected--a little too connected--via internet, on Facebook and Twitter (follow me, by the way, at @cliffgarstang), and I stay in touch with a lot of people via email. But I sometimes crave the company of writers.

That's one reason why I started a local writing community. We get together in a café once a month and talk about the business, and we have an open mic. We also host occasional readings where visitors share their work with us. It's fun, and it's just nice to get out from time to time and mingle with other writers.

Which, if I've scheduled this post correctly, is what I'm doing at the instant these words appear online. I am at AWP, the annual conference of the Association of Writers and Writing Programs, this year held in Chicago. AWP is a wild three days of panels, readings, parties, and a huge bookfairs celebrating small presses and magazines. And, this year, 10,000 writers. I don't know if attending AWP is good for my career. I suspect it's not, although the publisher of my first book and my forthcoming book will have a table at the bookfair, and I'll also be promoting our magazine. It could be that our time would be better spent in some other way.

Whatever. It's fun. And it's nice to get together with other writers. I recommend it.

Forthcoming Books: Dust to Dust by Benjamin Busch

Dust to Dust is a memoir by Benjamin Busch, son of the novelist and short story writer, Frederick Busch.

Here's the description:

Dust to Dust is an extraordinary memoir about ordinary things: life and death, war and peace, the explorations of childhood and revelations of adulthood by Busch--a U.S. Marine who served two combat tours in Iraq, an actor on "The Wire," and son of celebrated novelist Frederick Busch.


It looks like a good one. Publication date is March 20.

The New Yorker: "Haven" by Alice Munro

March 5, 2012: “Haven” by Alice Munro

This isn’t one of my favorite Munro stories, although I like how it begins.

A young girl is dumped by her parents on her aunt and uncle while they go off to work in Africa for a year. The girl is somewhat embarrassed by this, but it puts her in a good position to observe her mother’s sister, Dawn, and Dawn’s husband. Dawn is completely under Jasper’s thumb. The household revolves around him—what he wants, what he doesn’t like—and the girl imagines that Dawn has created a haven for her husband, something she read about in a woman’s magazine.

But trouble arises when new neighbors move in and want to be sociable. Dawn is interested, but Jasper isn’t willing to have guests in his house. (One wonders why he accepted the girl for a whole year, although he presumably thought he could control her). It also happens that Jasper’s sister, a professional violinist, comes to town. Unbeknownst to Jasper, Dawn invites the sister and the neighbors over for coffee and sherry while Jasper is at a professional meeting. Time gets away from them, though, and the guests are still in the house when Jasper gets home. Conflict and repercussions ensue.

The story seems to be about the awakening of Dawn, which makes her name a blunt choice. She even wears a “soft lilac color” suit to a funeral—a color of dawn, perhaps? Or of spring, which is the time of year that the funeral takes place. And the funeral is the Church of the Hosannas, and Hosanna means “save” or “pray.” In the end, Dawn has her resurrection. It’s all a little heavy handed, it seems to me.

Tips for Writers: Skip the boring parts

Elmore Leonard, maybe more than most writers, is full of pithy tips. (See this list.) I can’t say I always agree with him, but usually he’s spot on. And one of my favorites is “Skip the boring parts.”

It seems obvious, but it isn’t always obvious when you’re in the middle of writing a story or novel. Your characters are at point A and you need to get them to point C so you write about their trip through B. That may be perfectly fine writing, and it may also be necessary for you, mentally, to know what happens to the characters as they pass through B, but unless there’s a good reason to show the journey—tension-raising obstacles along the way, maybe, or some other relevant plot point—you can skip. So, in revision, cut it. Or, in the writing process, if you know it’s not needed, hit Enter twice (what we used to call a double carriage return), leave the extra space to show the passage of time or change in location, and move on.

Of course, that’s not the only example of what might be boring and could be left out. Mundane dialogue—Hello. How are you? I’m fine, thanks for asking. What about you?—also needs to come out. Does it advance the plot or reveal character? If not, cut it. Same goes for other bits of business, description, and even some action. I’m currently working on revisions to a novel manuscript, and I’m reminding myself of this constantly, stripping away the boring parts.

Year of the LitMag: Prime Number Magazine Issue 17

This might seem like cheating a little, since I'm the editor of Prime Number Magazine. But, in fact, I want to draw your attention to a review of Issue 17 by Sarah Crow that appears in The Review Review: Slipstream, Satire, and Mainstream--An Online Journal with Many Offerings.

Crow begins with a discussion of the fiction, and has very nice things to say about stories by Brandon Patterson and John Carr Walker, and highlights the satire in Daniel Meltzer's piece and the setting of Gleah Powers's memoir-like fiction. She also describes the poetry in the issue as well as the diverse selection of nonfiction. I'm also very pleased that she liked Buzz Mauro's craft essay. We do hope to run more of those in future issues.

The Review Review is a terrific resource and I'm happy that they turned the spotlight on Prime Number.

Forthcoming Books: Goliath by Susan Woodring

Goliath by Susan Woodring will be published by St. Martin's Press on April 24, 2012.

Here's the description:

When fourteen-year-old Vincent Bailey stumbles upon the body of Percy Harding, Goliath's most important citizen, near the railroad tracks one perfect autumn afternoon, the tragic death seems literally unbelievable: how could it have been a suicide? Only Harding's secretary, Rosamond, might have had a glimmer, but that glimmer just tugs at her, urges her to find out more. Harding isn't the first person to leave Rosamond: everybody does, from her husband Hatley, who walked out on her years ago; to her complicate daughter Agnes, whose girlhood bedroom was papered with the maps of the places she wanted to go.

Michael Parker says, "Goliath is a careful, contemplative study of the rhythms of collective grief. Woodring's sense of the constraints and hard-earned pleasures of home rings as true and pure as a train whistle in the night."

The New Yorker: "A Prairie Girl" by Thomas McGuane

February 27, 2012: “A Prairie Girl” by Thomas McGuane

Q&A with Thomas McGuane

I didn’t care much for this story, which feels far too “told” for me. Where are the scenes? Too few and far between. Also, it doesn’t seem terribly fresh. A prostitute in a small town marries the gay son of the town’s banker. Her motivation is related to the reason she’s a prostitute—her family’s farm was foreclosed on when she was a kid—and her goal is to take over the bank. Meanwhile, she has a son—the husband doesn’t ask too many questions about how that happened—and isn’t too upset when the husband moves to California to be with his lover. Eventually she has to answer some of her son’s questions. The end.

The author also had two stories in the magazine in 2011, and I didn’t much care for them either.

Year of the LitMag: A Public Space, Issue 14 (Guest Post by Christy Strick)

Year of the Lit Mag:  A Public Space, Issue 14

Reviewed by Christy Strick

Before I talk about APS, I’d like to commend Cliff for this project of his, this year of reviewing literary magazines.  Too often, writers submit to these magazines without ever supporting them or even reading them.  Personally, I think this needs to change.  And Cliff is doing something to change that.  So thanks, Cliff.

Issue 14 is not the latest issue – issue 15 has come out in the past month – but I haven’t received 15 yet, so this is the one I’ll review.

A Public Space describes itself as “an independent magazine of art and argument, fact and fiction.”  Founded in 2006, it’s a relatively new print journal, and always packed with content.  Issue 14 is a fat 164 pages of stuff: an 8 page color photo essay in addition to 10 poems, a 50 page memoir in the center of the magazine, an essay, and 5 short stories. 

Since I’m a fiction writer, I’ll talk primarily about the short fiction.  The journal opens with the story “Is That You, Walt Whitman?” by Therese Stanton. It’s a great story to open with. Set in Brooklyn in 1855, it’s a fanciful tale with Walt Whitman and his muses and explores the creative process and an artist’s self-doubt. 

I also really liked “The Runner,” by Justin Tussing, the sad but beautifully told story of a couple and how their life together changes after baby.  “You Can’t Say Dallas Doesn’t Love You,” by Peter Orner, is the story of a family who is just a bit too perfect, and how a normal family compares itself to them, and is totally engrossing.  Jesmyn Ward’s “Barefoot” depends on the strong voice of the 1^st person narrator, and completely draws you in.   It’s a great story, and my favorite of all. 

Probably the only one I didn’t love was Dorthe Nors’ “Karate Chop,” translated from the original Danish by Martin Aitken. It’s about an abused woman, and is mostly an interior piece.  It’s nice to break up the journal with shorter stories (“Karate Chop” is only 5 pages) but this one just didn’t have the impact it could have.

The memoir in the magazine is the centerpiece of this issue, really.  It’s a powerful firsthand account of prison camp interment by Eva Zeisel, considered one of the most important designers of the twentieth century.  It’s an excerpt from Eva Zeisel: a Prison Memoir, an e-book for iPad.

I’m not qualified to speak to the poetry, but I will mention that former US Poet Laureate Billy Collins has a poem in this issue, and he is always a joy to read, even for someone like me who doesn’t always understand poetry.

APS ranks 14^th on Cliff’s 2012 Pushcart Prize Rankings for Fiction, up from 20^th last year.  It tied for 76^th in non-fiction in 2012, about where it was in 2011 at 77.  It didn’t rank in poetry in 2012.

Of the five fiction authors, only one has not published a book, and she was a Rona Jaffe Foundation Writer’s Award recipient.  While I don’t think that means they aren’t interested in new work, I do think the tough competition is something to be aware of when submitting.

APS is a strong literary magazine, one I would be proud to have my work in.

Christy Strick is a fiction writer whose stories have appeared in New South, Pearl 38 and Pearl 40, Prime Number Magazine, the Delmarva Review, Fast Forward: A Collection of Flash Fiction, Volume 3, lifewithobjects, and onepagestories.  She was the recipient of the 2012 Marianne Russo Award from the Key West Literary Seminar, and has been awarded residencies at The Studios of Key West, Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, and Hambidge Center.  Ms. Strick is a founding member and past president of WriterHouse, a nonprofit writing center in Charlottesville, Virginia.  She can be found online at www.christystrick.com.