An old school chum of Spouse's has published a story in an anthology. His name is Charley Henley. His mother is the esteemed writer Patricia Henley (her last book was divine). His story is tres good. It's in Best New American Voices 2005. His is the very first story. It isn't what I expected- I remember him as really funny- and the story isn't funny at all. Some of the characters have funny attributes, but it's sad. Or else I am missing the point. That happens with short stories and me. I have a knack for missing the point. I am more of a full on novel kind of girl (thus the fondness for Proust, et. al.). I love diving deep into the narrative, and enjoying the bonding with characters whose lives I can swim in. It's one of the joys of life. Proust is like a fluffy warm sweater. Hemingway is like a cold, icy blast.
But back to Charley- his characters are very well developed, and he did a really fine job. I'll look forward to reading more from him in the future. Kudos! I've never been able to pull off the short story format, so I admire those who can. Hell- I can barely pull off the blog format on a good day- and only after being juiced full of caffeine via a tea drip.
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