We Need The Skeletons Of Other Stories

The Novella Is At Once The Most Elegant And Demanding Form: A Writer Must Balance The Looseness Of A Novel With The Concision Of A Short Story, A Feat That Only The Bravest And Most Talented Of Us Can Manage. In Brazil, Jesse Lee Kercheval Proves, Yet Again, That She Is Exactly The Right Writer For The Job. A Wild American Picaresque, Brazil Snaps Along Briskly, Yet Feels Full-fleshed, And Brims With A Sly Wit And Grace.

The Gender Inequality In Book Reviewing Isn't Getting Better. Male Authors Get The Majority Of Review Coverage, And Male Reviewers Do Most Of The Reviewing. It's Kind Of Devastating.

She Would Always Feel This Wild Girl Was The Truest Of Any Of The People She Had Already Been: Adored Daughter, Bourgeois Priss, Rebel, Runaway, Dope-fiend San Francisco Hippie; Or All The People She Would Later Be: Mother, Nurse, Religious Fanatic, Prematurely Old Woman. Vivienne Was A Human Onion, And When I Came Home At Twenty Eight Years Old On The Day The Monster Died, I Was Afraid That The Baptist Freak She Had Peeled Down To Was Her True, Acrid, Tear-inducing Core.

We Need The Skeletons Of Other Stories To Understand Our Own, Sometimes.

The Triumph Of Writing Fiction Is That By Doing So, Writers Can Build A More Ideal World In Themselves.