Short and Bittersweet

“Short and Bittersweet”

By Kasey Cox

A little over a year ago, Kevin and I helped a friend publish a collection of short stories. Local author Joe Parry had freelanced for outdoor magazines for more than twenty years, having his stories and columns most regularly published in “The Pennsylvania Game News” and in our own Wellsboro Gazette. As we made inquiries on Joe’s behalf at various small presses and publishing houses around the country, the polite rejection was often the same: “Short story collections are a tough sell these days.”

At the bookstore, I am often asked for suggestions for possible titles for a book club to read. I learned pretty quickly not to include short story collections in that list of potentials. Even the members of the long-running library book club, who read a wide variety of selections, shy away from short stories. As for the casual book club which currently meets out of the bookstore, they vehemently voted down my desire to try a recent, particularly interesting title, St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves.

I don’t understand why short stories are getting the cold shoulder in the current movements in popular literature. It seems the short story would be perfect for a culture accustomed to multitasking, instant gratification, text messages, and other conveniences that allow for living on high speed. When you’re busy chauffeuring three kids to their various activities, or balancing your work schedule with that of your spouse, or taking care of an ill parent or partner, what could be better than a collection of stories that you can easily finish in little bursts? No need to keep track of a complicated cast of characters across hundreds of pages; perfect for the five minutes before you fall asleep each night; just the right size to read on your work break. Short stories are the perfect quick peek into the intimate details of someone else’s life, like reading a facebook page or one of Frank Warren’s “PostSecret” books.

Maybe that’s the exact reason why we shy away from the modern short story: the well-crafted story is a condensed version of the truths spelled out more subtly in novels, like a shot of espresso instead of a large cup of coffee. Perhaps short stories act too much the mirror, reflecting back things we don’t want to see quite so closely about our own lives.

Without a doubt, intense is definitely the best word for Adam Haslett’s 2002 collection, You Are Not A Stranger Here. Breaking with recent trends, Haslett’s book was a finalist for both the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Certainly Haslett’s stories are no more emotionally intense than the best-selling novels of Jodi Picoult or Wally Lamb, and they are beautifully written. Haslett’s characters are often trying to make their way in the world, despite struggles with mental illness, or the weight of a terrible secret, like leading the double life of the closeted homosexual. Haslett writes with obvious compassion for his characters, but that doesn’t stop him from telling the truth about the pain in their lives, or from going for the gut-wrenching surprise ending that often clenches a great short story.

Many well-known, now award-winning authors begin by publishing a collection of their short stories. Be sure to check out Barbara Kingsolver’s early short story collection, Homeland and Other Stories. I found these stories populated with a wonderful variety of characters, and the reading is accessible, although some readers might be a little intimidated if they knew that Kingsolver’s novel The Poisonwood Bible didn’t just get chosen by Oprah; it was shortlisted for the Pulitzer Prize.

The magic of a well-crafted story is that it sticks with you. Sometimes, I’ll read a story, and decide I don’t like it. It bothers me. The ending doesn’t satisfy me. Or I feel I can’t relate to the characters. Nevertheless, several years later, I can still tell you about the tension between the two women, or the ending that made me gasp. Z Z Packer’s story “Brownies” comes to mind – a story she penned and published in a national magazine when she was only 19, now part of her collection, Drinking Coffee Elsewhere. I didn’t even finish reading Coffee the first time I tried it, because the stories got under my skin. Now I believe that’s the mark of excellent writing. Instead of wading through a voluminous “Great American Novel” to get that, give a short story collection a try.

Hobo’s hard at work on the next GREAT AMERICAN NOVEL. After all, he’s a “Hemingway” cat. Let’s convince him to give us his short stories instead: email him your short story suggestions at frommyshelf@epix.net, or read some of his past shorter blurbs at his blog, http://frommyshelf.blogspot.com.