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Thursday, August 20, 2020

Short stories

 It occurred to me that I could write short stories. I have read stories by Updike, Munro, anyone else who published in The New Yorker in the past century. I have read stories by Borges, Cortázar, Matute, Pardo Bazán, Clarín, Maupassant, Atxaga, Borges, Salinger, D.H. Lawrence, Coover, Updike, Lydia Davis, Otxoa, Singer, García Márquez, Roth, Calvino, Sorrentino, Hemingway, Greene, and Borges. I am probably forgetting a few, like Poe, Carver, Barthelme, and Barthelme [Donald, Frederick, another brother I'm forgetting?). I am not intimidated by the genre in the least. Unlike lyric poetry, in which I have specialized, the story seems like something that would be easy to do at a mediocre level. It's not like I don't respect it. In fact, I am not crazy about novels, preferring the short story in most cases. 

Becoming a short-story writer is one of my crazy pandemic self-improvement plans, like learning Romanian.  

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