Vroman's

Month

May 2009

33 posts

It's an odd feeling

Right now I’m reading a book that takes place in the city and the area where I work (Pasadena/Altadena/Flintridge), and it’s the strangest feeling, reading about places I see every day.  Some of this is tempered by the fact that the book takes place in 1982, so obviously much has changed, but reading those familiar street names and then walking down those very same streets, it’s almost unsettling.  I know a lot of people enjoy reading fiction set in their hometown.  How do you feel about this, Tumblr?

May 29, 20092 notes
“

On the other hand, it might also be pointed out that desolation, hurt, and anguish are hardly the only things in life, or in Astral Weeks. They’re just the things, perhaps, that we can most easily grasp and explicate, which I suppose shows about what level our souls have evolved to. I said I wouldn’t reduce the other songs on this album by trying to explain them, and I won’t. But that doesn’t mean that, all thing considered, a juxtaposition of poets might not be in order.

If I ventured in the slipstream
Between the viaducts of your dreams
Where the mobile steel rims crack
And the ditch and the backroads stop
Could you find me
Would you kiss my eyes
And lay me down
In silence easy
To be born again

Van Morrison

My heart of silk
is filled with lights,
with lost bells,
with lilies and bees.
I will go very far,
farther than those hills,
farther than the seas,
close to the stars,
to beg Christ the Lord
to give back the soul I had
of old, when I was a child,
ripened with legends,
with a feathered cap
and a wooden sword.

Federico Garcia Lorca

”
—From the end of the same Lester Bangs piece.
May 27, 2009
“A man sits in a car on a tree-lined street, watching a fourteen-year-old girl walking home from school, hopelessly in love with her. I’ve almost come to blows with friends because of my insistence that much of Van Morrison’s early work had an obsessively reiterated theme of pedophilia, but here is something that at once may be taken as that and something far beyond it. He loves her. Because of that, he is helpless. Shaking. Paralyzed. Maddened. Hopeless. Nature mocks him. As only nature can mock nature. Or is love natural in the first place? No Matter. By the end of the song he has entered a kind of hallucinatory ecstasy; the music aches and yearns as it rolls on out. This is one supreme pain, that of being imprisoned a spectator. And perhaps no so very far from “T.B. Sheets,” except that it must be far more romantically easy to sit and watch someone you love die than to watch them in the bloom of youth and health and know that you can never, ever have them, can never speak to them.” —My favorite piece of rock writing.  Lester Bangs, on “Astral Weeks”
May 27, 20091 note
Play
May 26, 2009
My Favorite Short Story Collections

Not the best, but my favorites (so don’t try to “prove me wrong.”  It’s like proving I don’t like whiskey, which, as we’ve established is simply not true.  Though you should absolutely post your own).

  1. Self-Help, by Lorrie Moore
  2. I Sailed with Magellan, by Stuart Dybek
  3. Civilwarland in Bad Decline, by George Saunders
  4. Jesus’ Son, by Denis Johnson
  5. Sixy Stories, by Donald Barthelme
  6. In the Heart of the Heart of the Country, by William H. Gass
  7. Bad Behavior, by Mary Gaitskill
  8. Welcome to the Monkey House, by Kurt Vonnegut
  9. The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien
  10. The Complete Stories of John Cheever (a cheat, I know, but come on)
  11. Among the Missing, by Dan Chaon
  12. Wilfull Creatures, by Aimee Bender
  13. Birds of America, by Lorrie Moore
  14. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, by Raymond Carver
  15. A Good Man is Hard to Find, by Flannery O’Connor
  16. Pastoralia, by George Saunders
  17. The Collected Stories of J.F. Powers (I’m more of a fan of his novels, but the stories are still great)
  18. The Early Stories:  1953-1975, by John Updike
  19. Rain and Other South Sea Stories, by W. Somerset Maugham
  20. Other Electricities, by Ander Monson
  21. Nine Stories, by J.D. Salinger
  22. The Baum Plan for Financial Independence, by John Kessel
  23. Dogwalker, by Arthur Bradford
  24. The Safety of Objects, by A.M. Homes

And as a bonus, some story collections I’d like to read this year:  Nobody Belongs Here More Than You, by Miranda July and Magic for Beginners, by Kelly Link.

May 22, 20094 notes
Edan Lepucki featured on Emerging Writers Network → emergingwriters.typepad.com
May 22, 2009
May 15, 2009
Play
May 14, 2009
I hate today.

Seriously.  Die already, Wednesday.

May 13, 20092 notes
Joe Meno, author of The Great Perhaps, on Writing Teenage Characters:

TM: One of my favorite aspects of your book is the humor and tragedy with which you depict the teenage lives of Thisbe and Amelia. At one point, Thisbe prays, “Dear Lord… let the wire in my bra poke through my heart,” which is just, well, awesome. Are you, in fact, a teenage girl in disguise? How did you get inside these complicated - and very different - young minds?

JM: I am not, in fact, a teenage girl. But I am writer which is pretty darn close.

A great interview with Meno from The Millions.

May 12, 20091 note
New Stuart Dybek story "Couplet" in Narrative Magazine (registration required but free and so, so worth it) → narrativemagazine.com
May 12, 2009
May 12, 200963 notes
Play
May 11, 2009
May 11, 200958 notes
"The Things They Carried"

The things they carried were largely determined by necessity.  Among the necessities or near-necessities were P-38 can openers, pocket knives, heat tabs, wristwatches, dog tags, mosquito repellent, chewing gum, candy, cigarettes, salt tablets, packets of Kool-Aid, lighters, matches, sewing kits, Military Payment Certificates, C rations, and two or three canteens of water.  Together, these items weighed between 15 and 20 pounds, depending upon a man’s habits or rate of metabolism.  Henry Dobbins, who was a big man, carried extra rations; he was especially fond of canned peaches in heavy syrup over pound cake.  Dave Jensen, who practiced field hygiene, carried a toothbrush, dental floss, and several hotel-sized bars of soap he’d stolen on R&R in Sydney, Australia.  Ted Lavender, who was scared, carried tranquilizers until he was shot in the headoutside the village of Than Khe in mid-April.

“The Things They Carried” by Tim O’Brien is not only one of the greatest war stories of all time (and, for my money, the best piece of literature ever written about Vietnam), it’s also a great example of the technique of listing in fiction.  It’s a favorite of mine.

May 11, 20092 notes
"Go Back to Your Precious Wife and Son"

Gloria Hilton and her fifth husband didn’t live in New Hampshire very long.  But they lived there long enough for me to sell them a bathtub enclosure.  My main line is aluminum combination storm windows and screens—but anybody in storm windows is practically automatically in bathtub enclosures, too.

The enclosure they ordered was for Gloria Hilton’s personal bathtub.  I guess that was the zenith of my career.  Some men are asked to build mighty dams or noble skyscrapers, or conquer terrible plagues, or lead great armies into battle.

Me?

I was asked to keep drafts off the most famous body in the world.

— The opening paragraphs of Kurt Vonnegut Jr’s “Go Back to Your Precious Wife and Son” from the legendary collection Welcome to the Monkey House.

May 8, 20092 notes
"The End of the Line"

The man went to the pet store to buy himself a little man to keep him company.  The pet store was full of dogs with splotches and shy cats coy and the friendly people got dogs and the independent people got cats and this man looked around until he found a cage inside of which was a miniature sofa and tiny TV and one small attractive brown-haired man, wearing a tweed suit.  He looked at the price tag.  The little man was expensive but the big man had a reliable job and thought this was a worthy purchase.

—The first paragraph of Aimee Bender’s fabulous short story “The End of the Line.”

May 8, 2009
Attention All Tumblr Blogs I Follow:

Ignore your Tumblarity ranking.  You are all tops in my book.  Carry on with your awesomeness.

May 8, 20097 notes
The Onion disects the latest Kindle. → theonion.com
May 7, 2009
How to Become a Writer

“First, try to be something, anything, else.”

— The opening line to Lorrie Moore’s short story “How to Become a Writer”

I think Lorrie Moore is the greatest living short story writer in the world.

May 7, 20092 notes
literary mix tapes! → emergingwriters.typepad.com

harmlessbalderdash:

i’d really like to be able to make a mix of my own here, but i’m dismally bad at remembering stories by title.

oh well.

Awesome idea.  I would mix in some non-fiction as well.

May 7, 20093 notes
“Oh I hate small men and I will write about them no more but in passing I would like to say that’s what my brother Richard is: small. He has small hands, small feet, a small waist, small children, a small wife, and when he comes to our cocktail parties he sits in a small chair.” —The opening lines of “The Lowboy” by the short story master John Cheever.
May 6, 20091 note
Dear Naked Lunch,

52books:

It’s not you, it’s me. Maybe I didn’t give us enough time to get to know one another. Who’s to say? The truth is I just don’t feel ready for this kind of committment. You deserve better than the kind of effort I’ve been putting into our relationship and maybe one day, in a better world, we can try again. We’ve shared some good times together and you’re even fairly easy on the eyes. However, the content you give is a little… how do I put this… demanding. I’m a one book at a time kind of girl, refusing to cheat on one with the other, which is why I’m trying to let you down easy rather than make this into *thing*. Don’t worry, I’ll still respect you and all that. Get yourself out there an find a reader you deserve - maybe someone with Kindle. Catch you on the flip side, Laura

I had this same talk over and over again with Gravity’s Rainbow.  Sometimes it’s just better to walk away.

May 6, 200922 notes
May 6, 20093 notes
“

29 September

Sue Ann is a wonder. Yesterday she viciously kicked my ankle for not paying attention when she was attempting to pass me a note during History. It is swollen still. But Miss Mandible was watching me, there was nothing I could do. Oddly enough Sue Ann reminds me of the wife I had in my former role, while Miss Mandible seems to be a child. She watches me constantly, trying to keep sexual significance out of her look; I am afraid the other children have noticed. I have already heard, on that ghostly frequency that is the medium of class room communication, the words “Teacher’s pet!”

”
—



From Me and Miss Mandible, by Donald Barthelme
May 5, 20092 notes
A Flash Fiction Blog from Pasadena → rosecitysisters.blogspot.com

Does your town have its own flash fiction blog?  I didn’t think so.

May 5, 2009
Short Story Month at Emerging Writers Network → emergingwriters.typepad.com

Dan Wickett has an excellent series of posts about short story month.  Check them out.

May 5, 2009
some of my favorite short story collections

harmlessbalderdash:

in no particular order

  • Flash Fiction Forward edited by James Thomas
  • Pieces for the Left Hand by J Robert Lennon
  • Willful Creatures by Aimee Bender
  • No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July
  • Welcome to the Monkey House by Kurt Vonnegut
  • The View From the Seventh Layer by Kevin Brockmeier
  • A Place So Foreign & 8 More by Cory Doctorow
  • Nine Stories by J D Salinger

in honor of Short Story Month!

This is a really, really good list.  I shall post mine at some point this month.

May 4, 20091 note
For Short Story Month: An interview with one of the masters of the form, Stuart Dybek. Have you read him? → themorningnews.org

“The way it came about was this: I had agreed to speak to some Polish organization or something or other. I hate when people ask you to give your talks titles. I spent all my time coming up with a title and none of my time on the talk. The title I finally came up with was Childhood and Other Neighborhoods. And as soon as I had that title I realized that I could build a collection out of that.”

May 4, 2009
Short Story Month

May is Short Story Month.  People make a huge deal of April being National Poetry Month, but you never really hear much about May as Short Story Month.  Well, that’s about to change (around here at least…meaning to the lucky 24 of you who follow me).  I’m going to post something (a link, an excerpt, a brief essay) about a different short story every single freakin’ day in the month of May (except the ones that have already happened.  Can’t do much about them).

Anyway, stay tuned for more of the good, short stuff.

May 4, 20093 notes
May 4, 20093 notes
May 4, 2009
May 1, 2009
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