I am always jealous when (Canadian) people win prizes for short stories, especially prizes to which I *may* have submitted. Sigh. I can’t even rightly be jealous because it isn’t like the stories in Faithful are bad. They are competent. Okay, they are more than competent. I can’t say that any of them will suddenly become my favourite short story in the world (Shout out to Guests of the Nation), and a few of the stories needed a bit more oomph (An Old Friend ends so quickly and not being a middle-aged, cheating man, I had trouble connecting with some of the motivations of Jake in the titular Faithful), but there’s a story about someone who realizes they’re never going to write a novel (Witness). I know that feeling (although I have written a novel); I know that feeling like I know my own skin.

Faithful are short stories that make me yearn to write short stories again.
Now if only I could come up with an idea (or maybe I’ll steal some of Karasik’s and make them my own; who knows).

Faithful by Daniel Karasik went on sale October 1, 2017.

I received a copy free from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

I’m not a millennial — I think I’m Gen Y, maybe late Gen X (I remember Kurt Cobain dying), so these flow charts probably aren’t for me (also because I have already learned the IDGAF-answer to the question to whether or not to wear a bra, which is hell no), but because I am old and crochety now, I am going to say, if you’re going to make flow charts, put some damn arrows in, or make levels so that I know which box is next.

It’s kind of amusing, but I don’t really know it’s purpose. I guess you’d buy it as a cheer-me-up gift, or a cheer-you-up gift for a girl-friend? Maybe it’s an aspirational book to put ass-backwards on your bookshelf? Who knows. As I said, I’m old and crochety and need arrows in my flow charts otherwise I can’t be bothered.

The Best Damn Answers to Life’s Hardest Questions by Tess Koman went on sale September 4, 2018.

I received a copy free from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

A pair of two Japanese novellas about, well, I guess about not being engaged in life, and having spiraled inwards, even when making connections to others. The first, a just-met pair stay at a love hotel for five days, then separate. The second, a wife lays in bed in her mouldy apartment, reading blogs online and thinking about her husband. The first novella takes place during Bush II years and it was like “Oh yeah, Bush. Lot’s of bad stuff happened then.” I’d forgotten about all that in the waves and waves of all the new bad stuff that’s happened in the meantime. The second is more unmoored in time, even within the story which sort of floats around the way my thoughts float around when I, too, can’t be bothered to put the effort in to get out of bed. Or like now, when it’s humid and I’m sleepy and I feel as detached from life as the characters I read about in The End of the Moment We Had.

It’s a very disorienting feeling after having read these stories; I’ve disassociated myself from all I suppose.

The End of the Moment We Had by Toshiki Okada went on sale September 4, 2018.

I received a copy free from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.