A troubled kid starts hanging out with local troublemakers.
(from Zoetrope All-Story, Summer 2008)
“Did you say ‘straightened arrow’?”
“Yes,” my mom says.
“That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why is that funny?”
“Because there’s no such thing,” my dad says, and smiles.
“What are you talking about?”
“There isn’t any fucking arrow, Tess. There’s just the straight and narrow.”
“Oh, go to hell.”
I’m not sure how I feel about the “leave ’em wanting more” approach. One the one hand, if you’ve done it right, you’ve impressed your audience enough to keep ’em coming back and to wonder about the unrealized possibilities. On the other: Your audience is not satisfied.
“The Invisibles” is a marvelous bit of storytelling that ends before its time. The characters, particularly our endearing if wayward narrator (who hangs out with jerks and sneaks into houses), make us think about this little world. Everything’s sad and complicated, and confining. And I wanted to spend some more time there, get a glimpse of how things will work out, or not work out. I wanted more. But there is no more. But what there was so good. But I want more still.
Read an excerpt here. Then buy the issue for the rest. Then that’s all there is. Oh I should relax. The story was right on.