I’ve got a new story up on Hobart today. It’s a slightly revised version of Tribulation, a story you might have heard me read at the Fictlicious Shitshow earlier this year.

Check it out on the front page of Hobart today!

Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

Blogging the BASS pt. 2

What better way to keep the nerves at bay while waiting for Game 7 of a Cubs World Series than to offer up unsolicited critiques of writers far more talented than I who have earned one of the highest honors in the short story world?

Garments – Tahmima Anam

One of the things I don’t love about the BASS series is its strict adherence to alphabetical order in its story sequencing. Back in my Infrasonics days, we’d spend a lot of time debating track order whenever we put out an album. Even for instrumental music, we wanted an order that made sense, and strove to balance the long songs with the short ones, fast against slow and made sure we didn’t have four in a row in the key of D. In so doing, ideally we’d come up with an album that felt like a complete, coherent work.

“Garments” is one that, coming directly after “Ravalushan” feels a little like a retread. Some of that has to do with the foreign setting and the cultural elements, but it’s also because some of the craft decisions that didn’t work well for me in the previous story were more successful here. Most importantly, “Garments” has developed characters with interesting arcs. That goes a long way toward making the “humanity is brutal” thematic beats more compelling. There are stakes here for Jesmin, and while this wasn’t my favorite story of the collection, it resonated a bit more for me because it actually told a story.

Wonders of the Shore – Andrea Barrett

I thought this was an interesting story about a woman and her friend engaging in a bit of passive-aggressive rivalry during a summer getaway to a 19th century New England artists’ retreat. It’s a long story that takes a while to get going, but once it does, has genuinely engrossing moments. The divergent fortunes of protagonist Henrietta and her friend Daphne provided a nice undercurrent of tension throughout. I’m also a sucker for characters that make bad decisions, or at least, ones that they know will make their lives more difficult, and Henrietta is a good example of how to use character flaws to propel a narrative arc.

This was also a long story, which–as someone who often writes stories in excess of 6500 words in a literary environment that wants to set a 5000-word cap–leaves me both jealous and glad to see that some of the best stories are still the longer ones. More on that in my next post.

The Bears – Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum

Another bit of odd sequencing here, as this story also starts out at an artists’ retreat, though this time, the story is far more wrapped up in the narrator’s head. In this instance, the protagonist is using the retreat to recover after a miscarriage.

Truth be told, this story didn’t do much for me. While the prose is rich, there was also a strange academic sterility to it. The end of the story shifts into summary language, moving forward over the span of several years, and the sense of resolution there is feels to me quite disconnected from the main part of the story. Perhaps this one might require a bit more effort on my part to unpack (and it came from Glimmer Train, which has a pretty high success rate for me in terms of stories I enjoy), but I’m not sure I’ll be compelled to give it another spin.


In other news, I’ll be back at StoryStudio after the new year with an 8-week class on world building. It’ll be about capturing the look and feel of the times and places our stories inhabit. This is an interesting topic to me, as I tend to do a fair amount of research for my stories and expend a great deal of mental energy in trying to find harmony between those lived-in details and serving the story itself. Sky Boys is probably the best example out of the stories I’ve had published, but I think they all rely on some element of world building as a crucial component toward feeling finished.

The class runs on Tuesdays starting Jan. 24. Check it out at StoryStudio’s website if you or someone you know might be interested.

Ok, time for the game. Deep breath…. Let’s go Cubs!


Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

Blogging the BASS pt. 1

It’s no secret that I love the Best American Short Stories series. In the classic Simpsons episode, “You Only Move Twice,” Homer confesses his secret goal to his kids. It gets a predictable response:



My secret goal as a writer has always been to get a short story in BASS. As such, I always look forward to this time of year when the anthology is released. I love scanning the list of 100 distinguished stories for names I recognize. I always try and fail not to skip ahead to the contributors’ notes so I can glean some insight into how the process works for these fabulous successes. But most importantly, I love reading the stories.

Sure, the collection draws a little too heavily from The New Yorker, but it’s also how I discovered great short story writers like Roxane Gay, Stephen Millhauser, Rebecca Makkai, Steve Almond, and Adam Johnson. It’s how I found lit mag gems like Hobart (who you should definitely check out on Nov. 4, when they’ll be publishing my story “Tribulation”), Fifth Wednesday Journal and One Story.

Every year, when I read BASS, there are some stories I love and some I can’t imagine how they got selected. There are some I feel are within reach of my talents, some that showcase literary skill I couldn’t ever hope to attain and some that make me feel like they should have taken one of my stories instead. So I figured it’d be fun to blog each story in the collection and see what we can learn.

Introduction – Junot Diaz

I’m a big fan of Junot Diaz’s writing. He has such a kinetic style. It’s slangy and hip, but never strikes me as solipsistic or too clever for its own good. His introduction is a love letter to the short story form. “Give a short story a dozen pages and it can break hearts bones vanities and cages.” Goddamn right.

Apollo – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Coincidentally, I’m also currently reading “Americanah,” Adichie’s much-lauded novel about Nigerian students and the dichotomy of influences in America and their homeland. “Apollo” has a similar feel of the early chapters of “Americanah” in that they present a land with a strictly composed social hierarchy that always asserts itself into the lives of the characters who inhabit it. I really liked this story for its brevity (a trait that “Americanah” definitely lacks) and Adichie’s ability to conjure such fully developed characters and plot into 12 short pages. The relationship between Okenwa, the protagonist and Raphael, the houseboy is immediate and intense, anchored around love of kung fu and a bout of pinkeye. Yet the thematic elements are never overstated. It’s exactly what I love to see in a story: let the reader do the work, but don’t allow for excessive ambiguity. Great start to the collection.

Ravalushan – Mohammed Naseehu Ali

This story did not quite click for me. It’s about a village in Ghana during a coup d’etat. The townspeople who aren’t beaten or killed are cowed into submissive passivity by the brutal dictatorship. I think my problem is that the story is told in first person plural, and this was a case where that didn’t work for me. The POV is necessarily distant, and I never quite latched on to a narrative arc. While the prose was vivid and richly detailed, the narrative arc felt too inevitable to me. War is bad, humanity is brutal. As callous as it is, that extreme amount of narrative distance means I can’t help but shrug my shoulders. That’s humanity for you–we’re collectively a bunch of assholes. I didn’t feel what was at stake, so the story left me cold. That said, the last few pages focused on a town outcast in charge of cleaning the latrines, and while the symbolism felt a little too on the nose for me, I’ll admit it was an image that stayed with me.


Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

A Dubious Writing Milestone

A couple weeks ago, I got my 200th rejection letter. Thanks, Redivider!  It’s an odd thing to celebrate, but almost every writer I mentioned that to responded in some kind of congratulatory manner. And for some strange reason, it felt like a celebratory milestone to me, too.

Those 200 rejections are spread over 10 short stories over the course of 5 1/2 years, and 8 of those stories were eventually accepted for publication. That translates to a batting average of .038, which would probably get me kicked off a little league team. So why feel good about such persistent failure?

Well, for starters, rejections are par for the course. Even Raymond Carver got form rejection letters. There are too many stories out there and not enough lit mags, even for the best of them. At some point, even the best stories out there have to play the numbers game when they’re in the slush pile. Peruse the listings on and you’ll find acceptance ratios of many of the MFA-program lit mags at well under 1%. Makes that 3.8% look pretty good, right?

For another, getting rejected doesn’t always mean your story sucks. As Bartleby Snopes‘ editor Nathaniel Tower shows us in his essay, their are many different tiers of rejection. I once got what we in the biz refer to as a “personal rejection” from McSweeney’s that said they liked my story and hoped I’d continue submitting. That felt almost as good as an acceptance. They’re few and far between–lit mags can’t respond personally to the 1000 submissions per month that some of them get–but they feel pretty good when they hit your inbox. Those “nice rejections” are the “it’s not you, it’s me” of the writer’s world, except we totally believe it this time.

But above all else, I think it’s simply that 200 rejections makes me feel more like a real writer. Hopefully there are hundreds more to come (though it’d be nice to raise that batting average a bit).


Other things:

I’ll have more details later, but the next Fictlicious will be Sunday, Apr. 10 at the Hideout. The theme is “chemistry” and we’ve got a great slate of writers and musicians lined up.

Donald Trump? Really? I imagine a movie from the late eighties/early nineties that offers a satirical take on the not-too-distant future where Pepsi-Cola has branded the moon, music is performed entirely on digital synthesizers and all restaurants are Taco Bell. In that movie, Donald Trump is the president, and it’s supposed to be a joke.

My next class at StoryStudio Chicago is going to be a really unique one: Radical Revisions. We’ll be approaching our work from all sorts of different angles with an eye toward exploring the myriad of different craft choices we make in the construction of our stories. If you’ve ever wondered, for example, “What would be different if I changed from first person to third in this story?” or “How would things change if I only relied on dialogue?” then this is the class for you.

Posted in Ranting, Writing | Leave a comment

Creature of Habit

I am very much a creature of habit, so the pressure around the New Year to set and achieve lofty goals always feels like walking north through a southbound crush of people. As an example, I’ve got three short stories in various stages of completion. Last month, I gave myself a Jan. 20 deadline to complete them. I’ve finished one, I’ve got quite a ways to go on another, but the third is so, so close. Part of me wants to say, “Good enough,” and start submitting.

But here’s the rub: I know it’s not perfect.

I re-read it for the hundredth time, and I like it at the paragraph level. The writing is good, the verbs are crisp, the characters are complex and interesting, it’s a unique premise. It doesn’t need line edits or major structural changes. But there’s something that’s not quite there yet in terms of the narrative arc, and while I can articulate what it is, I can’t figure out how I want to change it to make it right. It’s the kind of thing that’s going to take some time to wrestle with.

This goes against my instinct as someone who likes to get things done. I’ve told my classes before that you can’t lie to yourself on the page. If you aren’t sure if something is good enough, you can bet readers, editors and publishers will be.


Why a January 20 deadline? Glad you asked. My next class at StoryStudio Chicago starts that day: Junk Drawer Workshop. It’s going to be quite timely, as it deals with perfecting those drafts that have been languishing in our desk drawers and hard drives. The ones that aren’t quite right.

I get the feeling that the struggle I’ve gone through on this story will be a valuable resource for this class.

One last thing: starting with our next show, I’m going to be co-hosting Fictlicious with Micki, and our next show is coming up fast. Jan. 10 is the Fictlicious Shitshow and features readings from GQ of Q Brothers fame, Maria Vorhis, Chelsea Voulgares and Mike Devens as well as Micki and I. Liam Davis is leading the musical portion with Diana Lawrence and Molly Callinan. Come join us at the Hideout on Jan. 10 at 7pm. $10 cover gets you in. It’s going to be filthy (and fantastic).


Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

New Story at Bartleby Snopes

This week, my story “Easy Street” is featured at the online lit mag Bartleby Snopes. I wrote this to be read at the Fictlicious Easy Show a couple months ago.

This story is unique in that it got accepted at the first place I submitted it to. For shorter stories, I really like the idea of online lit mags, since everyone has the chance to read them and they remain available as long as the site does. Bartleby Snopes seemed like a great fit for this story, as they seem to curate their work with care. The stories I’ve read there are ecclectic in both style and subject, but consistently interesting. They specialize in shorter stories and flash fiction, and it’s a great site to check into frequently for a quick shot of literature (they post two new stories per week). They also have a blog that is full of interesting writing tips, and their submission guidelines are refreshingly straightforward.

If you’re so inclined, please take a few minutes to check out “Easy Street.” It’s short and sweet, but still felt very full to me. And if you’d be so kind, go back next week when the story of the month voting opens up and give me some love.

p.s. While you’re there, check out Jim Powell’s “Toyland” from a few weeks ago. Nice piece of writing, that one.

Posted in Writing | Leave a comment

Where Does It All End?

One of the most surprising things to me about aspiring short story writers is how few of them actually read short stories on a regular basis. Outside of a subscription to the New Yorker, it’s not uncommon for people in my workshops and classes to admit that they don’t really read a lot of lit mags, story collections or even the annual anthologies like the O’Henry Awards, Pushcart Prizes and Best American Short Stories.

I love anthology season, and I just finished the latest edition of the O’Henry Awards. As usual, there were a few that weren’t for me and many more I absolutely loved. Lionel Shriver’s “Kilifi Creek” made my jaw drop. But I was a little surprised by how many endings left me hanging. Some confused me to the point that I thought the copy I bought had an error in cutting off the final pages of stories (perhaps the Sycamore Review made me sensitive to that sort of thing…).

I’ve found this to be a common complaint about modern short fiction: the stories just end with no resolution, or I have to really go digging to explain the reasons behind how a story wraps up. Students of my writing classes will attest to how much stress I put on narrative arc, identifying climaxes, inciting incidents, focusing on causality and connectivity between the beats in a short story’s plot. When I manage to get personalized rejections on my own submissions, the most common feedback I get from the editors is that the ending just wasn’t right. Believe me, I take that to heart.

I’ve been focusing on endings a lot lately. I just changed one for a story that I’ve been tinkering with for a couple of years now. It’s a story I love, but it’s one of those that readers say “feels like the first chapter in a novel.” That’s a sure sign that the end failed.

Another story I’m working on has an ending I love, but I haven’t earned it yet. Sometimes, that means the end of the story isn’t wrong, but the path I’ve taken to get there is. I sometimes equate it to finding a route. If you know where you’re going to finish up, it’s easy to chart the course. If the ending turns out to be the place where you eventually wind up, then perhaps the way you got there is full of wrong turns, detours and side trips. Time to straighten out the directions.

So I’ll make you a promise: When one of my stories finally appears in BASS or O’Henry or the Pushcart Prizes, it’ll have an ending that feels like a real ending.

Speaking of endings, my friend Angela Taylor Hylland is coming to the end of her journey as she gets ready to release her children’s book “The Denim Jungle.” She wrote a blog post today on the mixed feelings she has about setting her book free at her My Castle Heart website that’s worth a look. I never considered the idea that one might feel anything but relief at finishing a book, but there’s something to ponder about putting your heart and soul into something for so many years, then letting it go out and take on a life of its own out of your control.

Posted in Writing | Leave a comment