(from Harper’s, Oct. 2008)
Did I read like a dozen short stories today, or none? These could easily be called vignettes, scenes, meditations, what have you. Some of them read like poetry — scattershot, pretty, wordy, jumping around between subjects and ideas, sometimes losing me or setting my brain in one direction while my eyes still go through the motions. Free from the confines of the “story” these pieces run wild, strangely theoretical then crisply material, and often worth the time brief time it takes.
Read one of them here.