Two Short Story(?) Collections
More traveling! I was in Portland, Oregon for the AWP Conference, and even though it was only a few weeks ago, it somehow already feels like it was a few years ago? I saw lots of friends—and I had a life-changing Thai meal at Pok Pok. I also had two wonderful collections to accompany me.
Get in Trouble by Kelly Link
I already knew I’d love this book since I love everything else I’ve read by Kelly Link; I don’t know what made me wait so long to do it. It’s been sitting on my shelf for years.
Which is to say: I loved it! For those of you unfamiliar with Kelly Link, her stories typically fall into the genre of magical realism—but not magical realism in the way you’d expect. They feel fresher, more modern and quirky and fun. One of my favorites in the collection, for example, is “The New Boyfriend,” which features several life-size boyfriend dolls, including Vampire Boyfriend, Werewolf Boyfriend, and most importantly, the rare, discontinued Ghost Boyfriend; the protagonist can’t stand it that her wealthy best friend gets to collect all the boyfriends and she gets none. Who of us could stand it?
A few of the stories felt a little grittier than normal Kelly Link stories, which I really enjoyed. “I Can See Right Through You” involves washed-up former movie stars, potentially haunted Florida lakes, and harassing text messages; the final story in the collection, “Light,” involves alcoholism, pocket universes, estranged siblings, hurricanes, and perpetually sleeping people from all over the country.
It’s a good book. I couldn’t stop reading, even when it was 2 a.m. You should grab a copy.
Oh, by the way—I ran into Kelly Link at AWP this year. She told me she liked my lipstick. *swoon*
How to Sit by Tyrese L. Coleman
We published Tyrese L. Coleman in our newest Split Lip print issue, and she read at our AWP event this year, so her collection How to Sit was high on my to-read list. But it’s not a collection of short stories; rather, it’s a memoir told in stories and essays. I’m not sure I’ve ever read anything like it before.
The whole book has a cyclical feel, as many of the characters (real and/or fictional) and situations (real and/or fictional) pop up again and again throughout the collection. Some of it is emotionally difficult to read—a trigger warning for childhood sexual abuse is definitely in order.
But I loved how tender the book was, and full of family, generations tied tight together, regardless of whether they wanted to be. And I loved how the collection was so thoroughly about womanhood—sex and birth and aging and all the rest of it—and how Coleman strives to navigate womanhood on her own terms. I read the last piece in bed late one night, and I cried.
If you’re looking for some genre-bending memoir, How to Sit is for you.