Some of the Things He Thought That Year
This story is inspired by Maxine Chernoff's short story "Some of Her Friends That Year". Here, I imagine a man's year through his memories, ideas, and observations.
Vomit that tastes like alkaline batteries. Wonderful. I love how the narrator says the days feel shorter during the summer. Raw, darkly humorous and honest material. Issues concerning aging, masculinity and finding meaning in existence are all here in their dark glorious splendor.
I am affected by this story. Not because I attempted to flee to Vegas on a whim, but it does conjure up some familiar feelings. When you are looking for love you become suspicious mostly of yourself and what the hell it is you really want and who the hell you really want it from. You have created a confused and desperate character lots of people may feel sorry for but secretly identify with
a well developed character that I bet many of us (men) can relate to. Or maybe it's just me, less than two weeks away from 30...
This story illustrates how attraction and longing mediate our interactions and breed our insecurities. It presents a narrative of life's pathetic desperation and the testosterone fueled ego. I'm not familiar with the piece on which it is based, but the narrator provides a vivid portrayal of gen-x men's self-absorbed, anxiety ridden inner monologue.
Liked the imagery and the feelings that stir, but most of all can relate to the uncertainty.
Yes, I meant a 9-volt battery. Darn.
Someone pointed out the AA battery thing to me years ago, after this was published in Transfer, and I forgot to make the change in my manuscript. Now I've committed the error twice! Ah well.
This is my new favorite story on dublit.
I don't know if it resonates with me because I can relate to the protagonist or because I am glad that I'm not him. In either case, you've captured a "feel" which is difficult (for me) to describe. It isn't quite melancholy, it isn't quite angsty, it isn't quite hopeful, and it's not quite hopeless. But it is all of these things, more, less, and everything in-between.
I think we are compelled to dwell at and ponder the emotional poles, but life is not often a simple extreme. You capture this amalgamation beautifully. Usually life is spare parts galore, with a lot of glue.
*One thing though - AA batteries don't taste like anything, unless you can get your tongue on both ends. Did you mean 9-volt?
