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Last Night at the Lobster

Just finished this book by Stewart O’Nan. Like The Monsters of Templeton, I started it months ago and it got put aside. It’s a quick read, only 146 small pages. I’d give it a 3 out of 5 rating. I liked the level of detail, the New England setting, in which I was able to recognize and relate to the character types and locations. But, if you’re looking for a book that’s exciting, this is not your book. The plot is pretty ho-hum; it’s more of an extended scene than a plot.

My problem with the story was the lack of a resolution. I know not all stories wrap up into a neat little package, but I was left at the end of Lobster wishing there was more explanation. The subplot about Jacquie and Manny wasn’t satisfying enough. I wanted to know more details about their relationship, about how it started and ended. Overall, I wanted more drama.

I think Lobster is a strong character study of the protagonist, Manny. The pace matches his  personality and attitude, and I was left feeling attached to him, if no one else. Lobster is also a superb example of omniscient narration.

Although it wasn’t my favorite, I think I’d read O’Nan again.

Here’s a link to the book: Last Night at the Lobster

The Monsters of Templeton

Just finished this wonderful book by Lauren Groff.  I started it months ago and finally picked it up again thanks to a week’s vacation. Monsters was lot of fun to read. The protagonist, Willie Sunshine Upton, archaeology grad student and daughter of an aging hippie, returns to her hometown hoping to get her life back on track after some scandalous events. She goes on a personal quest to solve a family secret and in the process uncovers the little-known history of her beloved town and of her famous and infamous ancestors. The fantasy elements–ghosts, lake monsters, fire-starting abilities ala Carrie– are done in a mature way, and aren’t so much that you feel like you’re reading some over-the-top, young-adult, sci-fi novel. They are peripheral details that are written about so casually that Glimmey the giant aquatic creature hardly seems unusual. The only thing I found a bit off-putting about the book is the amount of characters to keep track of. As Willie traces back through her family’s heritage, countless relatives are mentioned and given voices in diary-like chapters. Groff must have realized this potential problem in the process of writing and so chose to include family trees throughout the novel, trees which get revised as Willie learns more. These were helpful, and in the end I was able to get everyone straight for the most part.

I definitely recommend this book. Check it out here and see if you’re interested.

I'm a shitty blogger

Okay, I admit it. I don’t have the discipline needed to keep this thing active. Short Story Month is over, and I totally dropped the ball on that. I did read more than I posted, though, including a few stories by Lauren Groff, the author of The Monsters of Templeton. I took her latest collection, Delicate Edible Birds, out of the library. My only complaint is that some stories are quite long, longer that I think a short story should be–which is longer than a slowish reader like me can read in one sitting.

I was recently given a book by my supervisor at work, called Labor of Love. It’s the autobiography of Thomas Beatie, the man who gave birth. I didn’t remember showing any more than polite interest in the book when I saw my supervisor reading it but accepted it like a ill-fitting gift from an elderly relative. When I got it home, I realized there were probably very interesting gender identity arguments to be had in the book, so I started reading it. A few chapters in, it’s pretty good. I’ll keep you posted, maybe.

Short Story for May 6th

First I want to mention two other sites that are contributing to Short Story Month: Dan Wickett’s Emerging Writer’s Network and Matt Bell’s blog. Bell is the author of two chapbooks and the recipient of a slew of literary awards and honors. And Wickett is the Executive Director and Publisher at Dzanc books, not to mention an early ambassador of May as Short Story Month. You can also find both men on Twitter.

“Along the Frontage Road” by Michael Chabon

I had no idea what Nicky’s criteria for selecting a pumpkin might be. But I had remarked certain affinities between my son and the character of Linus in Peanuts, and liked to imagine that he might be looking for the most sincere. (Chabon)

I found this story in the 2002 edition of The Best American Short Stories. It was previously published in The New Yorker as well. Of course I am familiar with Chabon’s name, but I don’t think I’ve ever read his writing before. This will certainly not be the last I read of him. I loved this story. The pain in it is so subtle, like a slow, continuous ache. The father seems to be afraid and he’s grieving in that silent, “this isn’t such a big deal,” way. I assume reading his Pulitzer prize-winning novel would be a good start, but if anyone can recommend other Chabon work to check out, I’d be grateful for the advice.

Short stories for May 4th and 5th

May 4th- “The Loudest Voice” by Grace Paley

There is a certain place where dumbwaiters boom, doors slam, dishes crash; every window is a mother’s mouth bidding the street shut up, go skate somewhere else, come home. My voice is the loudest. (Paley)

I can’t tell you what I like most about Grace Paley. I’m going to risk sounding completely moronic here, but there is something I really admire about her choice to sometimes omit quotation marks. I was going to say that she’s eighty-something and still kicking around but went to Wikipedia to double check. She died in August 2007. I had no idea… 

May 5th- “Dark Room” by Jason Brown

This was an important day for me because I was a mean person who wished that bad things would happen to those I loved. (Brown)

More from Jason Brown… He’s great. He’s got an earlier collection of shorts that I plan to check out soon as I finish this one.

Short Story for May 2nd

I forgot to acknowledge in my last post that I was inspired to do this short-story-a-day thing by another blog–The Three Ps of Post-Montana MFA ‘08– in which one of the blog’s authors wrote a poem a day last month for National Poetry Month. If only I had the discipline to write a short story each day…

May 2- “Hurt People” by Cote Smith

“There’s somebody in the woods,” the elder said. He had stopped and the younger ran into his back.

“Where?”

“I smell baked beans. Let’s go.” The younger knew the woods were off limits more than the pool. “Come on. I bet it’s just Chris.” The younger said OK and understood what it felt like to make a bad decision. (Smith)

I found this story in the latest issue of One Story, a fabulously brief literary magazine featuring one story every three weeks. What I like about this mag is that the editors truely want to publish new writers. The envelope this issue came in was specifically designated as debut fiction, meaning that it is Smith’s first ever publication, and the mag is hosting a reading in his hometown to celebrate. Smith won’t be published in One Story again, though, since One Story never publishes a writer more than once–keeping the pool open for the rest of us hopefuls. Check out the magazine’s site to read an interview with Smith about his story and to get subscription and submission info.

May: Short Story Month?

Whether it is official or not, many sources indicate the latter, I will be celebrating Short Story Month. For the next month, I’ll be focusing my reading on short stories–a new one each day ideally. I’ll also try to post more short story related links and articles. Here’s to hopefully finding a way to keep this blog active…

May 1st-  “Why the Devil Chose New England for His Work” by Jason Brown

“No one, not even his parents, had mentioned his sister Stephanie in over a month, even though she had only died in March. Andrew stood in the kitchen and tried to remember the last thing Stephanie had said, but he could only picture her blank face as she sat at the table eating dinner the night it happened. She had pushed her fish away half-eaten” (Brown 108).

I’ve been reading Brown’s collection of stories by the same name for a week now and am really enjoying it. I bought the book after seeing a review of it in Entertainment Weekly. The title was too good to pass up. The stories all take place in or around a small, fictional Maine town called Vaughn. The stories are beautifully tragic and full of damaged characaters who find their own ways to sort things out. Highly recommended.

For Grampa (July 24, 1927 – April 11, 2006)

My grandfather died three years ago today. I miss him. I wanted to honor him somehow, and then I remembered this defunct blog of mine. Below is a flash fiction piece I wrote just a few months after he died. It is modeled after Grace Paley’s story “Mother,” a story I recommend checking out. Although my story is fiction, it is very much inspired by my grandfather and the last days I had with him.

*Edit (5/6/09)  It took a long time and many rereads for me to see how much grief was in this piece. I was deeply mourning his loss at the time but didn’t realize how much that showed in my writing. The story is incredibly personal, and may or may not have been appropriate to post, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

“Grandfather”

(after Grace Paley’s “Mother”)

I was watching the Food Network with my grandmother. We watched Bobby Flay in his kitchen. The channel boasts that it’s way more than cooking. They’re right, and I know it. I wish I could see my grandfather in the kitchen again. He was always in someone’s kitchen, somewhere. Once he sat in his own kitchen, on a stool at the counter. His forearms and elbows resting at the edge, his finger pressing at bread crumbs. They call your grandmother up to tell her they went to the bathroom, he said to me. Then they call back in five minutes to tell her they flushed. He still had his humor, but he was lonely in his old age, and dare I say jealous of her friendships. So he enjoyed his chance to complain.

Some other day, he stood in his kitchen next to a giant glass jar of his homemade sour pickles. He capped the lid and sang. He sang like a crooner and swayed my grandmother around in lopsided circles. They kissed on the lips, and I thought it was silly and fun.

Then he died.

In my all my future kitchens, I’ll see him swaying and singing. I’ll see him sitting at the counter sipping on ice water. Not just in my kitchen, but in my aunt’s kitchen at a forsaken Thanksgiving dinner. He’ll eat collard greens with vinegar. I’ll see him in my mother’s kitchen during a blue Christmas. He’ll sneak chocolate from the hidden stash in the cupboard.

His new cupboard held nothing sweet, just his clothing in a plastic bag and a cold tank of oxygen. We sat in square, firm chairs in the hallway outside his room, my grandmother and I. We watched the curtain as it was drawn in its track. I think he knows, she said to me. He reached over to hold my hand when we were lying in bed, she said, He never does that.

I wish I saw him in the kitchen again, watching his tiny TV with the volume at a deafening level. I wish I saw him anywhere but where he was. Back in his room, my grandfather and I listened to his neighbor snoring and the squeal of carts rolling past the door. Your grampa doesn’t get to see you much, does he, he sighed.
I hugged him gently. I’ll see you in May, I said.

Then he died.

Midnight Sun and some thoughts on book snobs

After a couple months sans Twilight-saga material, I decided to download the partial draft of Midnight Sun from Stephenie Meyer’s Web site. Midnight Sun is the Twilight story told from Edward Cullen’s perspective.

The backstory of the Midnight Sun scandal, for those who don’t know, is that Meyer’s draft was leaked to the internet at some point during the taping of Twilight the movie. In response to this invasion of rights and privacy, Meyer shelved the novel “indefinitely.” She has since named it as her next project, according to recent updates to her Web site.

I liked what I read of the draft, which was the first twelve chapters of the novel-in-progress. The story takes you right up to Edward and Bella’s trip to the circular meadow before ending. Admittedly, I was a bit disappointed that she didn’t include just one more chapter so that I could have read the meadow scene from Edward’s p.o.v. I wonder if Meyer had that chapter written and just didn’t include it in order to drum up more interest for the future novel?

I had read earlier, from various sources, that Edward saw himself as a monster–one not worthy of Bella’s adoration. In Twilight, this aspect of his character was minimally addressed. In Midnight Sun however, it is predominant. After Edward has fallen in love with Bella, he is consumed with finding a way to leave her so that she will never have to be victim to the monster within him. Of course, he becomes her protector and can’t make himself leave.

One of the things I wanted out of the Twilight saga but didn’t get was physical passion. As you may have read in some of my earlier posts about the books, I was disappointed that Meyer left out some much-wanted details about Edward and Bella’s love life. I found in Edward’s version that there was a bit more talk about the physical attraction to Bella and hints to the effects it had on Edward. Maybe she felt with the story coming from a male perspective that it was more appropriate to talk about. Whatever the reason, I appreciated that she kept it real. I wish I could have gotten a peek at that next chapter to see how Meyer handled the scene in the meadow where Bella and Edward have their first real physical connection. It would be a good indication of how the topic in the rest of the novel would be addressed.

I definitely don’t want the repetition of the entire Twilight saga rewritten in Edward’s perspective, but I am looking forward to Midnight Sun’s release. If you’re interested in reading what there is of Midnight Sun, you can find it here.

Now to digress a little…

A tweet from a writer I follow on Twitter left me miffed yesterday. As you probably know, Twilight the movie came out on Friday. It has been a common topic on Twitter since then. The writer said, “Whenever a book like Twilight gets popular, a piece of me dies. When it’s made into a film, that dead piece returns as a zombie to kill me.” Okay, so I see the humor in it. It’s the whole reason I chose to follow the guy in the first place; he’s usually pretty funny. But, it’s what he’s implying that got me. It had been too long since the tweet to reply and not feel stupid, so I didn’t bother. I probably would have said something like, “Who are you to judge what people like to read, you snob!”

When he said “a book like Twilight” I assume he’s referring to the arguably low-brow writing of the young adult fantasy/sci-fi genre. If you look back at my first couple posts about Twilight, you’ll see that I complained about the writing. I understand that y.a. fiction isn’t always the most intellectual or literarily important, but that doesn’t make it worthless. When I was in that age range, I loved those books. My genre of choice was “thriller” by the likes of Christopher Pike and R. L. Stine. Sure, I wasn’t learning grand worldly ideas or expanding my vocabulary, but I was reading and enjoying it. There is a time and place for literary fiction, but otherwise, reading is reading. Don’t complain about the types of books young adults are reading, and be happy that they are. Book tastes are like any others. Gary Vaynerchuk, for instance, would argue that wine is only as good as you think it is. You have to trust your own palate. So it is with books. If y.a. fiction isn’t you’re thing, just don’t read it.

Read this

In my search for appropriate lit mags that may accept my work, I found this short story:

When My Girlfriend Lost the Weight by Matt Getty

As much as I want to love short stories, I am rarely interested enough to read beyond the first paragraph. When stories are so short, it’s crutial to get them going right away. With a novel, readers tend to give slow-paced writing at least a chapter or two before giving up. A short story has much less room for development. Getty’s story kept me in it till the last word. I am a big fan of absurdity stories, a category Getty’s story certainly falls into. I suppose, like all writing, it can be disected in many different ways, but I read it from a women’s studies perspective. The story centers on a woman with an eating disorder and takes that issue in a new direction. Check it out and let me know if you liked it too.