So I'm back from directing a summer study abroad program and I've been guilted into posting on my blog again. I've been reading the latest issues of the Paris Review, Missouri Review, and the Southern Review. Apparently Brett Lott is no longer with the Southern Review and he has decided to go back to Crazyhorse. I'm not sure what this means for the journal or the next direction it will go (a lot of people feel that Lott pretty much resurrected it) but there certainly is some great work in the summer issue. I especially liked a story by Bruce Ducker called "Micah's Story." It was reminiscent of Ethan Canin's "The Palace Theif" (the short story that was made into a really bad movie called The Emperor's Club with Kevin Kline) since it was set in a prep school and it had the same sort of reunion, let's-see-what's-happened-to-all-us-good-'ol-boys feeling, but the tone was much darker and more poignant. The narrator manages to make himself seem pretty pathetic and pedantic without losing our sympathy. And the main character Micah, a persecuted intellectual who doesn't, for some reason, feel it appropriate to give his schoolmates their comeuppance, is complex and intriguing. These kinds of stories always fascinate me; I'm not sure if I can generalize that all writer's do this or care about this sort of thing, but I think that there's something to be said for wanting to know what happened. What happened to Jeff, my druggie, ex-best friend from junior high? Or Stephanie, the violinist who gave me my first wet willie? Or Darcy, the running back, or Sean, the band geek? I find myself sometimes Googling these folks to try and find out. Stories, I think, are one way to make sense of all that growing up we're always doing, to make sense of the irony or dichotomy between who we were and who we are now. It's strange to say, but making things up helps me figure out what happened. It's like putting a salve on the scars of adulthood--a way to reclaim the past or to make it count. So, here we go. Pen to paper, fingers to keys, let's get on with the business of getting it out.
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