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Secrets and Dreams

Ruby was resentful whenever Don arranged an evening with one of his post-docs, especially if it happened to be with Valerie and her husband Caleb. She wasn’t sure why; there was just something about Val. Maybe it was the tight tee shirts or the way she clicked with Don intellectually. Ruby’s stomach always let her know. It knotted up as soon as he suggested having dinner with them. But here they were again at Shorty’s, a sports bar on the trendy Park Hill side of Denver at 7:30 on a Saturday night, about to meet Valerie and Caleb. read more

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A Writer’s Signature

The signature of my voice struck me.  I was prone to metaphor—Flowered petticoats beneath a rough- hewn skirt: a study of Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author— was the title of one such paper. 

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Joy Williams in The New Yorker

I should have been smart enough to realize something most peculiar was up if I had noticed that the title page of Joy Williams short story in the Sept 30th New Yorker was all in small caps, both title and author’s name. That can be taken as a signal of formal innovation, an expectation that is most often disappointed, only not in this case.

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Touched

The little girl was not a particularly beautiful child. Cute, in a gangly, grubby, natural way: thin stringy hair, knobby knees, one front tooth missing, the other a new too-large adult tooth.