Saturday, May 12, 2012

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 12, Young Goodman Brown by Nathaniel Hawthorne

"Faith kept me back a while," 
replied the young man, with a tremor in his voice, 
caused by the sudden appearance of his companion, 
although not wholly unexpected.




"Trees in the Fog" by Matthew Bietz,
Used under CC license

Yesterday's selection, "The Red Bow" by George Saunders, has always reminded me of one of my favorite stories.  And so to celebrate the twelfth day of National Short Story Month, please enjoy 

by Nathaniel Hawthorne 
(1835)  


Young Goodman Brown.  Young Goodman Brown came forth at sunset, into the street of Salem village, but put his head back, after crossing the threshold, to exhange a parting kiss with his young wife. And Faith, as the wife was aptly named, thrust her own pretty head into the street, letting the wind play with the pink ribbons of her cap, while she called to Goodman Brown.



Continue Reading

Friday, May 11, 2012

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 11, The Red Bow by George Saunders

Used under CC license

"NEXT NIGHT, walking out where 
it happened, I found her little red bow.
I brought it in, threw it down on the 
table, said: My God my God."
Day 11
National
Short Story 
Month


Today's selection, by George Saunders, was originally published in Esquire, later anthologized in Not Normal, Illinois, a nominee for the Bram Stoker award, and winner of a National Magazine Award.  The story appears in Saunders's story collection, In Persuasion Nation.

But the story is more interesting than all that.






by George Saunders
(2009)


Thursday, May 10, 2012

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 10, Mirrors by Carol Shields

Today's story selection
comes from a writer whose
line and work always
has a quiet patience to its
tone and content.  One of
the master writers of the
20th century who is most
known for her novels such
as the Pulitzer-Prize winning
Stone Diaries, Carol Shields.




"Untitled" by Daniel Oines,
Used under CC license






"From June to August they choose to forget who they are, or at least what they look like, electing an annual season of non-reflectiveness in the same way other people put away their clocks for the summer or their computers or door keys or microwave ovens."




Please, enjoy

 "Mirrors" 
by Carol Shields
(1996)






(Shields was originally from Illinois 
but later moved to Canada, so she's often 
thought of as a Canadian writer, but 
to this writer and also native of Illinois, 
Shields's concerns have always
seemed Midwestern.)



Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Box of Delights Anthology on Kindle

Aeon Press's Box of Delights, Cover
Winter 2011 - KINDLE VERSION
Box of Delights, edited by John Kenny and published out of Dublin, Ireland, is now available on the Kindle.

It may be National Short Story Month in the U.S., but if you want to make your celebration an international one,  try Box of Delights, an anthology of contemporary horror fiction by 16 writers around the world.  Her story, "The Lightning Tree", is one of those stories.


Box of Anthology writers 
(links follow to the writer's webpage)

Sean MacRoibin
Eleanor Marney
Erin Pringle

CLICK!
a) here for the U.S. Kindle edition of Box of Delights
b) here for the U.K. Kindle edition
c) here for a print copy of Box of Delights


Short-Story Month 2012: Day 9, Concerning Ghosts by Michael Stewart



Black and white photograph of a wire fan
"Fan" by Mike Schmid,
Used under CC license




"My ghosts move as trees age." 



National
Short
Story
Month 

Day 9.

                                          Selection.



                                                            "Concerning Ghosts" by 
Michael Stewart





Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Send Giants: Maurice Sendak Left Today

Photo by Michael M. HughesAll Rights Reserved ,
used with photographer's permission


Send Giants:
An Elegy in 2012



May 8, 2012

Dear Mr. Sendak:

Please tell the lion that you care (even if you don't), and it will maybe let you come back. Speak very loudly because it's dark in there, and according to the newspapers, its mouth is shut tight. And this lion never gets sick when it eats. 


Or maybe we can send giants. They can shake you out. 

Then the newspapers can print a correction tomorrow, like they do and nobody catches the correction because they're not looking or don't even get the paper the next day and so they keep thinking the wrong thing the reporter wrote.  But I'll look for it. 

Your Friend,
Erin, age 5 30



*









Picture from Pierre of lion sick in bed, having eaten Pierre, and now Pierre's parents are hitting the lion with a folding chair.
From Pierre by
Maurice Sendak (June 10, 1928-May 8, 2012)
"I have nothing now but praise for my life. I'm not unhappy. I cry a lot because I miss people. They die and I can't stop them. They leave me and I love them more. ... What I dread is the isolation. ... There are so many beautiful things in the world which I will have to leave when I die, but I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready." 

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 8, Roots by Chadwick Redden

Photograph in black-and-white of tree roots under cirrus sky
"Ghost Trees" by Rosino,
Used under a CC license
Welcome to Tuesday, the eighth day of National Short Story Month.  Today's selection was recently published in the literary journal red lightbulbs, an increasingly exciting location for new and interesting poetry and fiction:




"We drove ninety miles south to watch the lunar eclipse. Light pollution and cloud cover all the way down. In a field your shoelaces forgot their knots . . ."




"Roots" 
by Chadwick Redden
(2011)

Monday, May 7, 2012

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 7, All the Anne Franks by Erik Hoel

Photograph of child's bear looking out window in empty room
"Lone Russian Bear" by jzool,
Used under CC license
She found today's selection for National Short Story Month a few years ago when she decided to nominate a story for the annual Million Writers Award and ran across this story in Strange Horizons:

"When the aliens came and cut the sky up into golden ribbons Dan Milestone ran inside to get his daughter Margaret and put her up on his shoulders in the front yard and told her that this was history and she told him to put her down because he was embarrassing her."



by Erik Hoel
(2009)

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 6, The Juniper Tree

The Juniper Tree
by Paleontour,
Used under CC license
My Mama She Kil't Me
My Father He Ate Me
Oh, What a Good Boy Am I!






It's Day 6 of National Short Story month, and today's selection is the folk-story, 
"The Juniper Tree"



A long while ago, perhaps as much as two thousand years, there was a rich man who had a wife of whom he was very fond; but they had no children. Now in the garden before the house where they lived, there stood a juniper tree; and one winter's day as the lady was standing under the juniper tree, paring an apple, she cut her finger, and the drops of blood trickled down upon the snow. "Ah!" said she, sighing deeply and looking down upon the blood, "how happy should I be if I had a little child as white as snow and as red as blood!" And as she was saying this, she grew quite cheerful, and was sure her wish would be fulfilled. And after a little time the snow went away, and soon afterwards the fields began to look green. Next the spring came, and the meadows were dressed with flowers; the trees put forth their green leaves; the young branches shed their blossoms upon the ground; and the little birds sung through the groves.  And then came summer, and the sweet smelling flowers of the juniper tree began to unfold; and the lady's heart heaped within her, and she fell on her knees for joy. But when autumn drew near, the fruit was thick upon the trees. Then the lady plucked the red berries from the juniper tree, and looked sad and sorrowful; and she called her husband to her, and said, "If I die, bury me under the juniper trees." Not long after this a pretty little child was born; it was, as the lady wished, as red as blood, and as
The following version is from the 1875 collection, German Popular Stories, edited by Edgar Taylor.

Click to 
The Juniper Tree! 

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Short-Story Month 2012: Day 5, The Brewsters by Laura Ellen Scott

Metal shed overlooking waterfront
Room with a View by Rick Kempel,
Used under CC license
"We always called that rusty metal shack the Brewster house."

In continuing the celebration of National Short Story Month, today's selected story is this linguistic beauty:


by Laura Ellen Scott
from her collection Curio
(2011)