LitMag Wave: Redivider, Vol. 7 No. 1

I spent this evening with the latest issue of Redivider, a publication of Emerson College. There are several things about the issue that I like, but the highlight was "Wodwo," a short piece by Dan Chaon. It has a Twilight Zone feel to it: Kate is driving in the dark and hits a deer. She goes through all of the emotions one feels in that situation (I've been there), and then she gets out of the car to inspect the damage. Big mistake. Kate! Don't get out of the car! Actually, it isn't completely clear what happens, because the story has an appropriately open ending, but the title of the story might suggest the direction the author wants us to go. I had to look it up: Wodwo, the wild man of the woods. Or deer, in this case.

Two other stories in the issue were also interesting reads, but similar in subject matter: "The House on Whaler Bay" by Carolyn Watson and "Excavation" by Tom Barlow. They both involve older relatives living in squalor, the first a pair of elderly aunts who don't take care of themselves and the second a senile father who seems to have a hording disorder. And these were all the more interesting because twice in the last 24 hours E.L. Doctorow's book Homer and Langley came up in conversation, and that's also about a couple of horders.

Although it has nothing to do with this issue, in looking at the magazine's website I noticed their special online feature, the Contributor Focus, which includes extra information and interviews with some contributors, the first being with Kevin Wilson, whom the magazine calls "ruthlessly likeable"--I love that description of Kevin, and it's spot on. Nice interview by James Scott, also a nice guy.

LitMag Wave: Willow Springs 63

Is Willow Springs on your radar screen? It should be. The magazine has been around a long time--30 years--and it quietly publishes fine fiction, poetry, and reviews. Plus, it's in the Top 40 on my 2010 Pushcart Prize Rankings.

In addition to poetry by Kim Addonizio and others, Issue 63 includes three pieces of fiction: "Uniforms" by Robert Lopez is an excerpt from his new novel, recently published by Dzanc Books: Kamby Bolongo Mean River. The excerpt is in the voice of a boy with a problem who is happy to be wearing a uniform (although it isn't clear what that uniform is, it seems he might be in some kind of residential home or detention facility) because it's "one less thing to worry about." It's a compelling voice, and bodes well for the novel, I think. "Last Words of the Holy Ghost" by Matthew Cashion is a terrific coming-of-age story (I hate coming-of-age stories) about a kid who gets baptized in order to be allowed to date a girl, only to discover that the girl is using him. And the poor kid, Harold, also has to deal with his dysfunctional family: "His heart was a trout lying in the woods. A sun-baked trout whose mouth kept moving, spilling final words from the Holy Ghost." And then there's "Reduction" by Joseph Salvatore, about a woman who thinks she needs breast reduction surgery and the man who is trapped between his feelings for the woman and his rejection of traditional male role that he instinctively plays.

I also enjoyed the interviews. The first one is with the poet Lynn Emmanuel. The second is with Thomas Lynch, whose essays are widely read. (Note that many of the magazine's interviews are archived.)

There's a lot in this slim volume.

LitMag Wave: Short Story, No. 6

It’s a shame about Short Story. In its short life—issue Number 6, Spring 2009, was its last—it published some very good stories and interviews with intriguing writers. In the last issue, for example, the editor’s interview with Elise Blackwell includes some useful insights into process:

“For me, a book often starts with a single image or idea or character. I let it marinate for a while, often a very long time. Once you start thinking about that, you notice things in the world that are related. You read a news story. You think of the character and you meet someone who shares a trait. This part of the process often takes a year or so, and I often do that while I’m working on another book.”

She also says, “A little research goes a long way,” which is a valuable lesson

I also enjoyed all of the stories in this issue. They all are a little quirky without being experimental, and they all leave a great deal of the story OUT, which is interesting. I think in the interest of thoroughness, short story writers (I’m thinking of myself here) sometimes include too much. These stories show that a writer doesn’t need to fill in all the holes.

In “At the DMV” by Lou Mathews, for example, we see Cyril Cleary at the DMV trying to get the name changed on his Drivers License. We know the problem with his name has to do with his departure from a religious order, but we don’t know much more, because it doesn’t seem terribly relevant to what the author is doing. Similarly, in “Woman with Mr. McElroy” by Joshua White, the reader wants to know more about the blind Mr. McElroy, but the truth is that we know just enough. If the author had included more details about the man’s childhood and his rivalry with his brother I would happily have read it, but it simply isn’t needed here. “Allan Mabry” by Michael Henson is similar. The title character (although in the story his name is spelled with only one ‘l’ so I have to think there’s a mistake in the title and table of contents) has hired a single mother and is repaid for his generosity by the son’s petty thievery. “Release Date” by James Barilla also leaves lots of questions unanswered. It tells of Gordon, found on the beach like any of the stray animals Mrs. Randall takes in, and like them he can’t tell her what his history is. And, finally, there’s “1947” by Simone Martel, a story that hints at a past that is never revealed.

Just when I’ve figured out what an editor likes in a story, it ceases publication!

LitMag Wave: Mid-American Review, Vol. XXIX, No. 1

I subscribe to a lot of literary magazines and I’m hopelessly behind in my reading. A 2010 resolution that I intend to put into practice immediately is to read the journals as soon as they come in, PLUS one from the backlog. I haven’t finished with the one that arrived yesterday, so let me start this new LitMag Wave with the older number:

Mid-American Review, Volume XXIX, Number 1. This isn’t even the most recent MAR, but it’s the one I grabbed off the pile so it’s the one I’ve been reading, and I like it a lot. Starting with the striking cover by Judith Vierow. Inside, I enjoyed the winner and editors’ choices from the 2008 Fineline Competition: Ryan Teitman’s “The Cabinet of Things Swallowed” is a sharp piece of flash fiction about fourth graders on a visit to a museum. Love the ending. No wonder it won! There are also two pieces from Alan Michael Parker’s collection of flash fictions, from which he read at the recent Winter Wheat Festival of Writing sponsored by MAR. He distinguishes flash fiction from prose poetry and while I agree with his distinctions, these pieces seem to me to be more prose poetry than flash fictions. But no matter; I very much like what he’s doing with the Reports from the Committee on Town Happiness.

Also notable in this issue is the story by Matthew Eck, “Ward No. 6?” about a writer who is hired by a prestigious university on the basis of fabricated publication credits. (I’m looking forward to Eck’s novel, which I just “won” in Rain Taxi’s annual fundraising auction.) I also liked Becky Hagenston’s “Anthony,” which is an odd story about a young girl who is sharing her body with a ghost, and “Girl With Two Hearts” by Sumanth Prabhaker. All of these pieces are off-beat, and so is the final story, Baird Harper’s “Two-Twenty-Two” about a teenager’s visiting, cross-dressing cousin.

Not to mention poetry, reviews, and several fine essays. Congratulations to the editors for an excellent issue.

LitMag Wave: Tin House 37: The Political Future

I don’t think I’ll remember this issue of Tin House as one of my favorites. It arrived shortly before the election—good timing—and included a lot of liberal politics with which I was in complete agreement. So what’s to remember?

One thing I might remember is Francine Prose’s essay “Out From Under the Cloud of Unknowing: some Thoughts on Politics and Art.” Among other things, it’s funny and personal and it’s in the form of a numbered list, which is still amusing after all these years. Also, I like the last paragraph:

“Maybe, like other arts, political art might as well start from there—not from the impulse to teach or inform, but from the desire to discover and to grope our way out from under what a fourteenth-century English monk called the cloud of unknowing.”

I might also remember the excerpt from José Saramago’s new novel, Death With Interruptions, except I didn’t read it because I recently bought the novel and so what’s the point of reading an excerpt?

J.C. Hallman’s story “Ethan: A Love Story” had some excellent moments. The narrator is the odd uncle in the family (I can relate) and comes to spend a holiday with relatives, some of whom he hasn’t met, including his young nephew Ethan. It proceeds pleasantly enough little Ethan grabs his uncles penis through his pants. What? There is a lecture that follows, and the incident seems to be over and in fact isn’t mentioned again. But then for reasons that aren’t clear to me, the story becomes surreal, as Ethan and the narrator play a video game that bends reality. Maybe that game is tied to the earlier incident. Maybe not. It didn’t work for me.

On the purely political front there is Win McCormack’s essay “The End of Democracy?” which asks some tough questions: What position will we be in to morally resist the bid for dominance by authoritarian world powers? McCormack also conducts an interesting interview with Thomas Frank.

There’s more. But I’m moving on . . .

LitMag Wave: Post Road #15

I picked up the most recent issue of Post Road at Sewanee, directly Mike Rosovsky, one of the fiction editors. Reading it has reminded me of the wisdom of looking at magazines before submitting work that we hope the magazine will accept for publication. I have written a number of pretty good stories that I think deserve to be published somewhere. But now, having read this issue of Post Road, I think only a couple of them--maybe only one--would be suited for this magazine. (And so, I'm going to polish that story and send it off soon . . .)

Most magazines are pretty mainstream in their tastes. They like stories with plain, rather than poetic language; they prefer domestic, rather than exotic settings; they tend toward subjective points of view; and they like stories that focus on character or, sometimes, plot. But Post Road seems to have a different focus. The work here isn't exactly experimental, but it is innovative with a humorous slant. And that's an important aspect to note.

For example, there is the story “Victor” by Michael Czyzniejewski (who is editor of Mid-American Review), about a ventriloquist’s dummy who comes home with the narrator’s wife. There are serious issues that the dummy raises, but the concept is not, um, realistic. “Bennett’s Cheap Catharsis” by Evan Lavender-Smith (editor of Noemi Press) is structured as a fictional essay by a deceased author, in response to an essay by another deceased author. In “O Saddam!” by Rusty Barnes (editor of Night Train—do you detect a pattern here?), it turns out that the whole time U.S. forces were hunting Saddam Hussein he was selling hot nuts in Boston. “Possum” by Mary Morris—not an editor, as far as I can tell—isn’t as far-fetched, but it is funny (with a serious twist).

There are also several essays in this issue and a few flash fiction pieces that are somewhat confusingly called poetry—I suppose the editors consider them prose poems—plus an interview with Phillip Lopate. One other innovative feature of the magazine is the “Recommendations” section, in which authors such as Jill McCorkle, John D’Agata, Quinn Dalton, and Debra Spark discuss favorite books. These aren’t reviews—in a way, they’re better.

LitMag Wave: Whitefish Review Vol. 2, No. 1

The third issue of Whitefish Review (Volume 2, Number 1) isn’t memorable for my short story, “The Nymph and the Woodsman,” although it has that, too, which I’m happy about. I enjoyed reading pretty much everything in the magazine:

There’s a wonderful excerpt from Annick Smith’s forthcoming memoir, Crossing the Plains with Bruno.

“I have always wanted a totem pole to guard my house. I would like a tall cedar log carved by a fine craftsman in the manner of the All Frogs pole. It would stand in the meadow near our driveway looking down on Bear Creek canyon and across the Blackfoot to the Rattlesnake Wilderness. The brightly painted, carved figures would not represent Frog. They would be Dog—a domesticated creature with wildness not quite bred out. An animal that binds us to our origins as well as to our day-to-day chores and pleasures.”

Shortly after this passage we get to meet Bruno, a chocolate lab puppy who is a gift from the author’s granddaughter. I suppose that’s why I liked this excerpt and will have to read the book.

Then there is my story, “The Nymph and the Woodsman,” which I think found a perfect home, since the magazine has a mountain theme and it is a mountain story about one Bobby Cabe.

“On his way up the mountain one cold morning, head pounding from closing Rocky’s the night before, there was barely enough light to see. But Bobby knew those woods like the rusty ceiling above his cot. He knew where the game trails wandered and where the stream trickled through the limestone from the spring in the high pasture. Downed leaves covered the path, soaked after a rainy fall but frosted on top, soft and brittle underfoot at the same time. Christmas was still a ways off, but the weather had turned. Solitary snow flakes nested in his beard. Ice rimmed the creek, and there were jaws of the stuff, icicle teeth and all, where the rocks churned the creek into foamy spray.”

This story, based on a Korean folktale I translated years ago, is part of an unpublished collection that may, with some luck, one day be a published collection.

I don’t usually mention the poetry in the magazines I discuss, but I really liked “Find a Crack in the Earth” by Catherine A. Still, which begins

Find a crack in the Earth
a fractured cliff born of upheaval
of furious forces of extrusion
fold and ferment.

It’s perfect for this journal—and memorable.

I also don’t usually talk about the artwork in a journal, but what’s interesting here is that the 12 different pieces—photographs and paintings—fit the theme, and the editors have also included one page of prose by each of the artists explaining the images. It was great to read about what they were thinking, and who the artists are.

I haven’t read Rick Bass in a long time, but I’m going to now. The magazine includes an interview with him along with an excerpt from his new book, Why I Came West. I’ve long thought highly of Bass, and this just reinforces that view.

Besides all this, there are a few more essays, stories, poems and novel excerpts, including a couple of pieces by winners of a high school writing contest. It is great to give these young writers this exposure, and I congratulate the editors for doing so.

This is a fine young magazine. Subscribe!

LitMag Wave: Fourteen Hills #14.2

Writers hear all the time that they should read a magazine before submitting work to it, and most of us recognize that this is a good idea in theory, but often hard in practice. Where I live, very few literary journals are available in the bookstore and next to none in the library, so I subscribe to very many magazines so I can get a sense of what they like. (Of course you can often read samples online, or you might see prize-winners anthologized somewhere, or the magazine’s editors may even make a pronouncement of their aesthetic that offers clues about what they like; there’s no substitute for reading an issue or two or three, though.)

And if you read an issue of Fourteen Hills, you’ll discover that the editors like quirky stories. I mean that in a good way. Most of the stories in the current issue are oddballs in form, tone or subject matter.

“An Inquiry into the Future” by Mira Pasikov is a good example. The subject matter is old hat—a couple is breaking up—so the telling better be fresh, and it is. The story is fragmented and is also jumbled in time. We get a piece of the narrator’s arrival at the airport, then the cab ride home, then a few more pieces before we jump back to the flight, then a moment before the flight, and also a visit to a tarot card reader. The author is asking a lot of the reader, here, and it’s a stimulating challenge.

In Laura Schadler’s “What’s On Fire,” the narrator undergoes eye-replacement surgery. Oh. Okay, that’s not possible, but never mind. It makes sense in the story. What follows is a more-or-less realistic telling of the aftermath.

“All the Small Objects” by Melinda M. Moustakis is mostly realistic (but maybe its realism is trumped by its San Francisco setting, given that the magazine is the San Francisco State University Review), and the subject matter is partly familiar—adultery. And yet the job of the central character, a bridge painter, is so unusual, and the imagery of falling objects, including bodies, is so compelling, that the result is fresh. Even this, though, is told in many fragments, with only one section that runs longer than a page.

I enjoyed “Love in Eviction City” by Stephanie Dickinson, and recognized the characters and setting from Dickinson’s story “Love City” in a recent issue of Short Story magazine. Here, Sunrise Williams and her boyfriend Jamer are looking at a house to rent with Desiree, their infant, except the baby is one they found in the aftermath of Katrina. But the house is not for them—they are too young and too poor—and they wind up back in the motel that is the setting for the other story. I gather that this is a collection of post-Katrina stories and I would predict that we’ll hear a lot more from Dickinson.

“Earth Diary” by Will Comerford is the record of an alien’s mission on the planet. It’s more than that, of course. It’s also a love story. I think.

“Mad Meg” by Sam J. Miller begins promisingly: a mother discovers her son’s gay porn video and watches it. The son—in a move that the mother recognizes as over-compensation—enlists in the Marines. Disagreement over this action is just one more crack in the marriage of the boy’s parents, and the mother plots to stop the enlistment by outing her son. All of which is happening against a backdrop of the woman’s interest in art, including Bruegel’s painting, “Mad Meg,” which gives the story an added dimension. I liked this one quite a bit, as far as it went; it seemed to just stop, rather than really end. In this story the telling is straightforward; it’s the subject matter that’s fresh.

And speaking of the military, there is also “Clean” by O. Aaron Lindsey, about a soldier newly home from Iraq who is taking a long, hot shower to wash the desert away. The story is a monologue, all internal, with great fragmented thoughts jumping into each other.

And there are a few more stories that also show that the magazine seems to prefer the non-traditional. Or “innovative,” to use their word. It’s hard to get more specific than that, because this is a wide variety, which is why I started with the “quirky.”

LitMag Wave: Keyhole #3

I've been hearing a lot lately about Keyhole Magazine so I ordered a copy.

It’s an attractive magazine, beginning with the eye-catching cover-art. Inside, there’s an editor’s note, which is something I usually like because it often provides some insight. This is no exception because the editor writes about what he looks for in a story. First, the opening sentence needs to grab him, and he points to an example in the issue, the opening of Monica Kilian’s “Mrs. Chatterjee’s Mangos”: “One evening in early spring, after her husband had fallen asleep in front of the television, Padma Chatterjee decided she wanted to grow mangos.” (I agree that this is an appealing opening because of the exotic name of the protagonist and because mangos are out of the ordinary; however, I would think a stronger action—something other than deciding—would have made the sentence even better.) Second, “keep it moving.” And third, “entertain me.” He goes on to say that “of course there is plot” and “of course there is character development” but these three things are what get him “excited.” Okay, then. Something to keep in mind if you are submitting to Keyhole.

As for the work in the magazine, it was entertaining and, for the most part, kept moving. I liked “Stitch” by Shellie Zacharia, about a woman looking back on an incident in school in which a classmate was injured with a baseball bat. It’s nicely done because the narrator is engaged in activity—she’s learning to sew—so that the retrospection isn’t happening without a context. This really works.

“Pilgrimage” is a long story by Tim Keppel, set in Colombia (where Keppel lives). I was a little confused by some of the relationships in the story, but basically a lawyer friend from the States, a pal of the narrator’s dead cousin, comes to visit. The visitor is kind of a jerk and the narrator and his girlfriend have to deal with him.

There is a series of flash fictions by Rosanne Griffeth, starting with “The Wrath of God,” a story about the point of view character’s crazy grandmother.

The other pieces are similarly quirky. It’s a magazine worth watching.

LitMag Wave: The Sun July 2008

I don’t always find enough to say about The Sun to comment on new issues, but the July 2008 issue has a two short stories and a great interview, so it’s worth talking about.

First, Jeff Fearnside interviews Wendell Berry. Unless you’re hopelessly urban and hip, you might want to find this interview and read it, not to mention reading all of Berry’s books.

On information:

“To make yourself a passive receptacle for information, or whatever anybody wants to pour into you, is a bad idea. To be informed used to be a meaningful experience; it meant “to be formed from within.” But information now is just a bunch of disconnected data or entertainment and, as such, may be worthless, perhaps harmful. As T.S. Eliot wrote a long time ago, information is different from knowledge, and it has nothing at all to do with wisdom.”

On reading:

“Real reading, of course, is a kind of work. But it’s lovely work. To read well, you have to respond actively to what the writer’s saying. You can’t just lie there on the couch and let it pour over you. You may have to read with a pencil in hand and underline passages and write notes in the margins. The poet John Milton understood that the best readers are rare. He prayed to his muse that he might a ‘fit audience find, though few.’”

On writing:

“Practice is essential. If you’re going to learn to write, it has to be your practice. I’ve been fascinated with the job of learning to write, which is unending. And I enjoy writing. Dealing with the problems it presents gives me pleasure. Sometimes there’s frustration, but if I get frustrated or hit an impasse, I just stop and go back to it later. I don’t like to hear writers talk about how they suffer for their craft. It it’s that bad, they ought to quit.”

There’s much more. I really do encourage you to find this interview and read it.

The issue includes two pleasant short stories. Neither is breathtaking, and both strike familiar chords, but there is still freshness. In “The Right Wind” by Laura Munson, an accident has taken the life of the narrator’s husband and she is left to raise their two children. The trope of the wind is lovely, here, not only the wind that blows across the prairie, but also wind as breath—breath that she shared with her husband, breath that was taken from him when the respirator was shut off. The story ends with the image of a kite held aloft by the wind, and that, it seemed to me, was just right. “The Fisherman” by Christian Zwahlen is about a boy acting out after the separation of his parents and his mother’s involvement with a man the boy doesn’t like. The boy is angry with his mother and protective at the same time, and this is the tension that propels the story to the end.

Good reading.

[Edit 7/8/08: The interview with Wendell Berry is now availalbe online: here. Also, check out the interviewer's website: Jeff Fearnside]

LitMag Wave: One Story #104

“Harriet Elliot” by Robin Black has some outstanding moments. The arrival of Harriet in the co-op school is one of them, where at first the reader receives the narration in a collective, first-person plural that only later shifts into first person singular when the narrator breaks from the crowd and almost, but not quite, befriends Harriet. And Harriet is quite an interesting character, who may or may not be telling the truth about a harrowing experience she had when she was a toddler. Plus the hatred the narrator’s sister seems to feel toward her is palpable and interesting. It seems to be caused by the blame she puts on the narrator for the tension between their parents.

So it is hard to find fault with the writing of this story, but in the end it isn’t one that grabs me. It’s about an eleven-year-old girl and her world, which I rarely find promising territory for fiction, and other than the narrator’s relationship with the very odd title character, the story is about what happens in her family when her parents split up. If ever there was a tired subject, that would be it. There is enough going on in the story to rescue it from cliche, but I really wish it had gone in a different direction.

Even though I don’t love this story, Robin Black’s work is really promising, and I’ll definitely look for more of her stories.

LitMag Wave: Lunch Hour Stories No. 22

Issue No. 22 of Lunch Hour Stories is “The Dead Pilot” by Gary Cuba. Despite the grim title, it’s a fun story about a backwoods South Carolina community and, in particular, Jimmy and his coon hound Horace, who are interesting variations on a corny stereotype. The skeletal remains of an Air Force pilot are discovered by Horace on Jimmy’s property. The explanation for how this old skeleton appeared where it did is sketchy, but not crucial to the story. And Jimmy does the right thing by trying to report the find to the Air Force. They, however, are a bundle of red tape and don’t want to hear what Jimmy has to say. So Jimmy comes up with his own solution to the problem. The result is a comedy that might remind you of “My Name is Earl” or maybe even the “Dukes of Hazzard.” Definitely worth the read.

LitMag Wave: Subtropics No. 5

There is so much fiction to admire in issue No. 5 of Subtropics that I hardly know where to begin.

So, let me start with “Stump” by my friend Roy Kesey. The story is about Donny, a loser who screws up yet again, and sets out in his bumbling way to do the right thing, for the first time in his life. But his reputation catches up with him and so he’s at loose ends. Until his friend Mitch is called upon to rescue a horse in a stump. It’s a little hard to picture, except this is redwood country and the stumps are big. Reluctantly, Mitch takes Donny along with him and of course there are complications. Great setting, great dialogue, great tension. This is a wonderful story.

Next is “No More Happy Birthdays” by Suzanne Halmi, and the reader might begin to sense a theme here. This time the loser is Ted who has the hots for Laurel and launches a scheme to get her to have sex with him. He hooks up with some other kids who can supply drugs, but getting the drug apparently involves a walk through the cemetery at night. And then there are complications. This one ended a little too abruptly, I thought, but it was still a fun read, and Ted is a well-rendered character, and engaging even if you don’t want to like him.

Owen King’s “Nothing is in Bad Taste” was terrific, too. Cheryl is an ER nurse, Leonard works in advertising, and she’s ready to get out of the city and start a family. He’s not. Which leads to complications that I’m not sure the story really prepares the reader for, which is not to say that they weren’t believable. The great thing about the story is the private joke that Cheryl and Leonard have that starts out being in bad taste, but gets used to the point that its meaning is lost. Another fine story.

The next two stories, Ben Stroud’s “Borden’s Meat Biscuit” and Chris Bachelder’s “Gatsby’s Hydroplane,” seem out of place here. The first violates the magazine’s no-first-person rule, although perhaps that’s because its structure and voice are otherwise so unusual. The second is very short and turns on an odd observation about Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. I’m not sure how I feel about these stories. John Brandon’s “The Coming Summer” appears to get things back on track, but then not much happens. This one is about Marky, a weird twelve-year-old who is already nostalgic for his youth. He rides around on a yellow scooter and . . . talks to other weird people.

Marshall N. Klimasewiski’s “Aeronauts” is in an innovative structure: part epistolary, part dramatization in which August Strindberg appears, it may take more attention than I’m willing to give it.

Finally, on the back cover of the magazine, is Paul Lisicky’s “The Didache.” It’s a beautiful narrative by a son about what he has learned from his mother.

There is also fine poetry here, and one non-fiction piece, but I’ll leave that for someone else to dissect. It's a great issue.

LitMag Wave: Lunch Hour Stories No. 21

Issue No. 21 of Lunch Hour Stories is "Three Blocks from the Sun Door" by David McCaul.

The plot is fairly basic: Heather and Kip are tourists (she's Canadian, he's American, they met in Florence) in Madrid; they're both about to head home and seem tired of the backpacking scene (I can relate), and in a discoteca they both have encounters with a loutish Spaniard, Yago. The encounter escalates into a classic climax, with a modest twist at the end. Although the story is simple, it's told beautifully, with fine descriptions of the scene and and the people.

What is unusual here is the shifting point of view. We start in Yago's point of view (which is interesting, because he's a jerk even in his own mind), shift to Kip, then to Heather, back to Kip, then Yago, then Kip and Heather mixed, then Kip, Heather, Yago and finally Heather. I enjoyed these different persepectives on the scene but I think the shifts cause the story to lose focus. Because we end with Heather's thoughts, the story feels like it really is hers and I wonder if it wouldn't be stronger if it were told entirely from her point of view. It would be a different story, of course, because we'd lose Yago and Kip's observations unless they came out in dialogue, but I think I could live with that.

Another noticeable feature here is the amount of Spanish, not all of which belongs, I think. The dialogue in Spanish is fine, of course, but I'm not convinced that either the Candian or the American, who aren't fluent in Spanish, would have had their thoughts infiltrated by so much Spanish after being in the country a short time. And so it feels like the author intruding, attempting to make the scene more . . . Spanish.

Having said that, the story creates some memorable characters. Heather is complex and self-contradictory, wanting Kip to take action but then judging him for the action that he takes. She's self-confident and self-doubting at the same time: "Yes, she was a young woman traveling alone, but common sense and intuition had served her just fine, except, of course, in those instances when it hadn't." And then we get a list of the tight spots she's found herself in. Kip, on the other hand, is shy and trying to take uncharacteristic direct action, which is a great way to make a character stand out. He tries and of course things don't quite go as he plans. That makes the story zing. And Yago, the Spanish jerk, he's also not quite as macho as he thinks he is, and when the girl Jimena wants him to take action to defend her honor, he can't be bothered. These are great touches.

In the end, despite my complaint about focus, it's an enjoyable story. A good read.

LitMag Wave: Short Story No. 4

Short Story, now in its second year, is one to keep an eye on. The current issue, No. 4, Spring 2008, although maybe a little too southern, is excellent.

It begins with "Love City" by Stephanie Dickinson, a gripping story about a teenage girl in post-Katrina New Orleans. The girl and her baby are living in a bungalow motel, where life is hard and where it's hard to know whom to trust. Here's an excerpt. It's an outstanding story.

The other highlight in this issue for me is the interview with George Garrett. Editor Caroline Lord discusses a variety of subjects including several of the writers he's known over the years. On the subject of rejection (always a favorite with me), he says: "I tell my students that sooner or later, you'll find the right match with the right editor or publication. You have to be patient and let that happen and it will up to a point."

The issue includes a discussion with Reid Buckley about his forthcoming memoir and also short story by Scottie Fitzgerald that is more notable (in my opinion) as a historical document than a story. The issue concludes with "The Good Fight" by Rosa Shand, about a Columbia, South Carolina woman who decides to stay on her summer home in the mountains.

Of note also is the announcement on the Short Story website that the magazine is beginning a weekly short story podcast beginning in September. That sounds like a worthy effort and I look forward to hearing more.

LitMag Wave: Prairie Schooner Spring 2008

The current issue of Prairie Schooner is a good one, and since two of the better short stories from the issue are available online, this is a good time to get a taste of this magazine.

The first story is “Shelter” by Paula W. Peterson. I enjoyed it because one of my own stories (“Pet Palace” in Storyglossia) is also set in a pet store, although that’s about where the similarities end (although Peterson’s protagonist and my antagonist bear a certain resemblance, in that they both have lots of tattoos). Jack not only works in this pet store, he also lives upstairs. He’s been working their for years, it’s where he is comfortable, it’s his shelter. A woman comes into the store and she and Jack hit it off when she lets him tell her all about having a fish tank. But her life is complicated and Jack finds out why. You can read the rest! Although there isn’t much of a plot, the story is a great portrait of Jack—where he comes from, why is the way he is—and shows the depth of him. It’s a closed story, in the sense that it resolves itself in the end. I’m not a fan of tidy endings, but at least this one is a bit dark.

Next is “Lamb” by Colette Sartor, and this one is also online. It’s a layered story about Savina, who has recently given birth to Luca. Savina and Judith are a lesbian couple, both lawyers (on opposite sides of criminal cases) but it is Savina who is home with the baby. And then Savina’s mother arrives, trying in her clumsy way, to be part of Savina’s life even though she disapproves of her relationship with Judith. The startling core of this story is that she arrives with a whole lamb in a suitcase that she intends to cook for Easter, even though Judith is Jewish and Savina has agreed to raise Luca as a Jew. Complications ensue: how to cook the lamb, how long will she stay? And there’s the neat twist on the domestic conflict, since Savina resents Judith’s work life. Again there isn’t much of a plot and the resolution involves everyone coming to terms with everyone else, this time with an ending that’s mostly upbeat.

“The Bones” by Chris Gavaler (a friend of mine in nearby Lexington) is complex and involves a family taking a servant girl into the house. She’s from the Indian school and young Henry is obsessed with her Indian-ness, and is constantly asking her questions. But the girl, Ivy, is smart and educated and Henry’s mother wants a servant, not a girl who’s getting an education.

Also in this issue: “Oranges, Patas, Puddles,” is an excerpt from a novel by Paul Griner and this piece is set in India in 1947. The last fiction in the issue is “The Paprika Ewer” by Marc Fitten, set somewhere in Hungary. It’s an odd little story about Valeria who does a favor for the village potter, and receives from him a pitcher in return, but the village people aren’t happy about this blossoming relationship between the two and things don’t go well. Plus lots of poetry and several book reviews.

LitMag Wave: One Story #101

One Story's 101st issue is "Familial Kindness" by Kirsten Sundberg Lunstrum. It's a traditional story with a familiar cadence, and it focuses on a very domestic scene. Alma is preparing for her daughter's wedding when she is surprised by a visit from Charlie Dunne. Charlie is Alma's sister's husband and we eventually learn that Sara has died and that Charlie has come for Lovisa's wedding. As the preparations continue--Charlie helps a great deal--we learn how lonely both Charlie and Alma are, how they have in common some resentment toward Sara, her irresponsibility and self-centeredness. And so the reader develops an expectation. Frustrating that expectation might have made this a more powerful story, but the ending we are given is also satisfying. The outcome is by no means certain but we have a sense of what may come in the future for these characters, and that's not a bad thing.

Lunstrum is an accomplished writer and this is a very solid story. What appealed to me most about it were the perfect details: the sand that Alma sweeps from the house, the recollection of Charlie's hair from his wedding to Sara, the sewing of Lovisa's wedding dress. All these things are delivered in ways that not only let us see, but also show us character, particularly Alma's. This one's worth a read.

LitMag Wave: Lunch Hour Stories #20

You may (or may not) recall that last year Dan Wickett of Emerging Writers Network and Dzanc Books declared the month of May to be Short Story Month, along the lines of April's Poetry Month. Dan commented on lots of short stories that month and several bloggers joined in. My contribution was to read and comment on as many short story collections as I could, and I think I got through about fifteen. I don't have time to do quite that much this year, but I would like to spend the month highlighting some stories from literary magazines, and we'll see what else happens along the way.

First, let me mention again T.J. Forrester's new website/blog, Five Star Literary Stories, which will focus on one story at a time from an online literary journal. Today T.J. posted a commentary by me about a fine story from Night Train. Be sure to check it out.

The first journal I'll discuss here is Lunch Hour Stories which, after the One Story model, prints a bound copy of a single story and sends them out every three weeks or so. Very handy, very portable. I have a new subscription to the journal and my first issue is #20: "The Guitarist" by K.T. Nelson.

The story is described by the author as a "mild fantasy" and that's a good description. It is set in a village in the mountains that might be of the sort that Star Trek explorers might stumble upon: timeless, civilized, untouched by the outside. Except then a stranger comes to town and turns things upside down. It is a classic set up for a story, of course, and it is handled wonderfully. The stranger is a guitarist who sings, among other things, "life songs," that have some kind of mystical power to them that is not really explained. A young girl in the village encounters the guitarist and has ideas about why he has come, but she seems to be wrong. And I'm with the story up to that point, but then its ending, which I won't spoil, seems too fast and unfocused. I'd be happy to read more of this author's work, though, so I wouldn't say the story is wholly unsuccessful.

More stories tomorrow!

LitMag Wave: The Florida Review, Fall 2007

I picked up a copy of The Florida Review at AWP, the first I've seen, I think. Most of the fiction in the Fall 2007 issue is, I have to say, odd. Or at least it's diverse. And I have to be honest in saying that little of it appealed to me. Furthermore, I was put of by errors that I suspect were editorial, since the same mistake (with a certain tricky verb) was repeated in multiple stories. Considering how hard I've been working to get my composition students to learn that particular verb, seeing that error in print is discouraging.

But it's not all bad. I enjoyed "Critical Cartography" by Joseph Levens, who happens also to be editor of The Summerset Review. The narrator is a kid putting together a cartography project for school. His family has taken a blind girl into their home and the map project takes on a new meaning in light of her disability. The boy learns an important lesson, and the story ends with a memorable image. "There's a Child Living in This House" by Kate Myers Hanson is solid, if disturbing, about a girl growing up in a dysfunctional home with a pain-killer addicted father.

Then there is the far more ambitious "Drown" by my friend Urban Waite. Here we have a narrator who is grown (and in a complicated marriage), but who is nonetheless still dealing with the problems created by his adulterous/murderous father and his irresponsible/manipulative brother. The opening line is terrific: "We kept our father's secrets." The story surprises in that it eventually seems to focus on the relationship of the narrator with his brother's daughter, and his clumsy attempt to give her something neither he nor his brother ever had.

"They let me bring Cali down to the inlet because I have done nothing wrong. I am not a reckless uncle. I am not prone to bouts of insanity, or anger. But there is something I would like to do, something I can't explain to Cali's parents, something that I want to do for myself and for Cali."

There's more here, of course, but these are the pieces that grabbed me the most.

On the magazine's website you'll see a note from the editor that she has moved on to The Southern Review. It will be interesting to see what that means for both journals.

LitMag Wave: Bateau, Volume 1, Issue 1

I think you've been waiting for Bateau. This is a brand new literary magazine established by poet James Grinwis. Each copy is a work of art, really, printed by letterpress and beautifully designed. And then there's the content. It is filled with 80 pages of imaginative poetry, flash fiction, playlets and comics, and there's more continuity to that combination than you might think.

As a fiction writer, the flash pieces were my focus. Among writers and editors there is a diversity of opinion as to what constitutes flash fiction. Length is only one parameter and the upper limit for Bateau is 500 words. Some writers view flash fiction as simply a compressed short story. Others feel that compression isn't enough, that the narrative needs to by lyrical and perhaps startling. In the hands of a poet, it isn't a surprise to see flash fiction that is more akin to prose poetry - short lyrical prose pieces that don't necessarily include a time-based narrative that you would expect in fiction. At least the latter is my impression of what might find favor at this magazine.

Having said that, "Ji Mo" by Patrick Dacey does move through time. "Ji Mo has a dream to go to New Zealand." It isn't a traditional narrative, but there is a story here. Then there's "Girl With Wings" by Janet Thorning. I love this story about a child born with wings who learns to fly when she's four. "Madame, why are you staring at me?" Hah! Why indeed?

The poetry also appeals to me. I liked "Dispensation" by Peter Jay Shippy ("It was Sunday, a lovely summer day/It was Friday at the start of autumn") and I especially liked "Used Books" by Sarah Sloat ("I like them dog-eared and lawnsoft,/ and savor the character of winestain/ and thumbsmudge")

There's more. Order a copy and find out yourself.