I’m a Korean American author who believes life is too short to read books that bore you, classics or otherwise. I’ve always had eclectic tastes and like to pick out books the way customers choose bonbons at my chocolate shop (which I’ve co-owned since 1984). And while I do read and often write longer works, I’ve always preferred to fall into a world from the opening line and bow out soon thereafter. By nature, I’m a minimalist – and maybe don’t have the greatest attention span – so I’m in awe of short works that stand on their own. They’re just more dramatic and memorable to me.
This seven-story collection serves as a great introduction to Chekov, period. I was first introduced to his work in a Russian literature course – and ended up writing my final paper on his “The Kiss”, a work that has always stayed with me. I’ve always taken an interest in a theory known as “the looking-glass self,” coined by sociologist Charles Cooley – which hypothesizes that your behavior is based on how you perceive others see you. So, if you were ridiculed in elementary school, you’ll always revert to how you felt back then when you see former schoolmates. On the other hand, if you were idolized in high school, you’ll still feel like prom queen or king at your 40th class reunion. This behavior was artfully displayed in “The Kiss,” a sad tale about a wallflower of a Russian soldier who develops a sense of confidence if not bravado after he’s accidentally kissed by a young lady in the dark who has mistaken him for someone else.
A selection of ten stories written when Chekhov had reached his maturity as a short storywriter, between 1887 and 1902. They show him as a master of compression and a probing analyst, unmasking the mediocrity, lack of ideals, and spiritual and physical inertia of his generation. In these grim pictures of peasant life, and telling portraits of men and women enmeshed in trivialities, in the finely observed, suffocating atmosphere of provincial towns with their pompous officials, frustrated, self-seeking wives, spineless husbands, Chekhov does not expound any system of morality, but leaves the reader to draw what conclusion he will.
Every work I’ve read by Carver reminds me of his singular gift; others may write in the same vein by creating stories with characters whose cigarettes and drinks lure them deeper into their desperation. But these writers, however good, lack the gift, the blood, to run so deeply that, well, one line in and you’re haunted. This particular collection contains my two favorite Carver stories: “Cathedral” and “A Small, Good Thing.” Indeed, in everyday conversation, I often use the phrase a small, good thing – as if everyone knows the story.
A collection of short stories which includes 'Vitamins' and 'A Small Good Thing', which were used in Robert Altman's film, 'Short Cuts'. First published in the US and now available in paperback in the UK.
For several years after graduating from college, free to read the books of my choice, I went wild – if one can go wild – at the local library walking distance from my apartment. I always left with a tall stack of books. It was then that I got my first taste of Anais Nin, Doris Lessing, Albert Camus, Isaac Bashevis Singer, the great television plays of the 1950s… I was in heaven. When I began reading John Cheever’s short stories, I was captured like none other, experiencing something his characters often do: an epiphany. I suddenly understood how just a few words can transform a dull moment into pure magic.
John Cheever's Collected Stories explores the delicate psychological frameworks of 20th century suburbia.
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HANIF KUREISHI
This outstanding collection by Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist John Cheever shows the power and range of one of the finest short story writers of the last century. Stories of love and of squalor, they include masterpieces such as 'The Swimmer' and 'Goodbye, My Brother' and date from the time of his honourable discharge from the Army at the end of the Second World War.
Years ago, someone gave this book to me for Valentine’s Day; and I literally drowned in the pages, the naked emotion. The next Valentine’s Day I bought copies for several friends. I would call this collection more beautiful than romantic; with each love letter, you hear love from various perspectives and time periods.
If a picture speaks a thousand words, a love letter speaks a thousand more . . .
Even in this age of e-mail, faxes, and instant messaging, nothing has ever replaced the power of a love letter. Much the way light displays every color when passed through a prism, love letters express the spectrum of our emotions, offering a colorful glimpse into the soul of the writer, and of the writer’s beloved. For passionate readers and lovers of words, a letter is irresistible.
Internationally renowned collector David Lowenherz sifted through hundreds and hundreds of historical and contemporary epistles and selected…
The author, a columnist, wrote these family stories as an homage to his bigger-than-life mom Patty while she was battling cancer. Told with heart, laugh-out-loud family anecdotes, and love, always love, Saalman brings you into an unforgettable midwestern world of then and now, although even the modern-day Indiana stories echo with “yore” to my more urban ears: his parents’ solid working-class values, their casino date every Saturday night, Patty’s job as the hostess of a diner. Ultimately, she would outlive her death sentence by five years.
"Scott's personal, poignant essays are a tribute to family and to the enduring nature of love. Read them in one delicious gulp or sit back on the couch and imagine yourself on Brushy Fork Road and savor then slowly." - Angela Himsel, A River Could Be A Tree
Frances Park’s parents arrived in the United States decades before the mass migration of Koreans. Her background and memory are rich with unique histories that work their way into That Lonely Spell, a collection of humor and heartache that covers much emotional ground from the innocent Sixties to the wild Seventies to the entrepreneurial Eighties – all the way to today. Kirkus Reviews praised her memoir with “Heart and humanity shine through in essays that speak to a fierce love of family and longing for home.”
My book is fantastical historical fiction about two characters who're wrestling with the monstrosity of their grief.
It takes you into London high society, where Ambrose tries to forget about how much he misses Bennett and how much he dreads becoming as cold as their Grandfather. It takes you to the family's country manor house, where Mattie isolates and old ghosts start to come out of the woodwork.
It's a story about loss and depression; it's a story about friends who don't let you walk through the valley of death alone.
Ambrose Bancroft returns to London society with his younger sister, hoping they'll leave ghosts of memory behind. They have only each other left. While Ambrose attempts to draw Mattie out, dragging her to balls and threatening to seek suitors for her, his sister recoils from his meddling. Finally, when Ambrose compels her to attend art class before she's ready, Mattie paints something horrific enough to banish them from society in public disgrace.
At Linwood Manor, Mattie and Ambrose aren't as alone as they think. Taking advantage of Mattie's desperate need to find freedom, a vanishing room lures Ambrose's sister into…
