On "Better to Lose an Eye" by Jamie Quatro (4192 words) ****

Quatro is often at her best with stories involving religion. "Better to Lose an Eye" takes a rather standard look at hypocrisy among Christians, but what is not standard is the point of view. Lindsey's mother's boyfriend shot her mom, leaving her a quadriplegic with a tracheotomy. Now Lindsey has been invited to a pool party, and she's too embarrassed to go with her mom in tow, especially knowing all the questions she's going to be asked. But grandma insists. It's hard not to feel for a girl in this situation--or for a mom. Read the story here at Blackbird.

On "Zeke’s Dead" by Elizabeth Denton (5671 words) ***

It's interesting to me how a well-written story often launches effortlessly from the first word and propels me forward. Having read several stories that sort of sat on the screen today, doing little, making me want to rush through their contents, it was a joy to find this piece from Elizabeth Denton. I sigh, knowing I've hit someone who can actually write. The story here is one that gets into the minutia of marriage and parenthood. George and Janice are off to see their son play in a rock band. George is concerned. Will Alexander drop classical cello for bass guitar? But there's something else going on here to, a small betrayal that hurts. There are things best kept between couples, secrets, that if we know others know them can hurt significantly. It is part of what makes trust in a relationship very hard. Read the story here at Blackbird.

On "Fried Chicken" by Lee Smith (3879 words) ****

In fewer than four thousand words, Smith takes us into the contradictory life of a murderer's mother. It's contradictory because the mother simultaneously claims a normal life and eschews what normality is offered to her. In her own mind, she is so much more than the mother of a murderer; yet in her mind, all the towns folk think of her as is the mother of a murderer. But when people are friendly to her, is it because they're trying to be extra nice to the mother of a murderer or just being nice the way they always were. The limited perspective here doesn't let us know. But what it does let us know is how lonely this woman is. Her son was everything to her, and now he is in jail. She can't think about what he's done. She can only justify him. And cook chicken, hoping for someone to take her away from what her life has become. Read the story here at Blackbird.

On "How to Measure Your Breast Size" by Laura Madeline Wiseman (2813 words) ***

I don't know if this piece appeals to me so much because it tells me all sorts of things about shopping for bras that I didn't know and, at least until the manzere (ala Seinfeld) comes into style and I gain a noticeable amount of weight, probably will never know or if this appeals to me because Wiseman manages to imbue this how-to lesson with so much verve and vitality. I want to buy a bra! I want to buy a bra! Don't I deserve something wonderful to? Maybe the story is enough wonderful for me. Try some wonderful on for yourself, here, at Blackbird.

On "Dear England, Please Send Me a Redheaded Boy" by Kate Hill Cantrill (972 words) ***

Some shorter stories are like long poems--or perhaps a better, more interesting analogy would be a stretching exercise, only here the stretching that's taking place is in words and phrases and sentences rather than in the muscles. I'd love to hear someone read this aloud. Act it. Fill my ears with it. For now, I'll have to live with reading it to myself, here, at Blackbird.

On "Gator Bait" by Georgia Garrett (4953 words) ***

Some stories hit you with a voice straight out, a strong one, that no matter what happens is going to make you read on and on. You just want to listen. You don't care too much what happens, and sometimes not much does. I think of Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground and of Salinger's Catcher in the Rye, both very good books. I also think of Katherine Dunn's Truck, a book that is not so good but that had such a powerful first ten pages I read the whole thing with a sense of growing disappointment. Garrett's story won't disappoint, but it's a bit different than perhaps I envisioned from those opening paragraphs. It becomes the kind of story one doesn't see much anymore, a story with a sense of character and morals, about a hero who really is heroic, not for shooting up bad guys or something you'd see in some vacuous adventure film but for simply living a strong life--and for imparting it to his son. That the son feels he hasn't lived up to those ideals may be one reason I so rarely see stories of such idealism anymore--in an age of cynicism, it's hard to be anything but cyncical. Read the story here at Blackbird.

On "Animal Control" by Jon Pineda (3291 words) ***

Here's a piece that does a good job of using its title to full effect. I like how "animal control" reflects not just on the narrator's job but on all the various passions that are running away in this story and all the people trying to catch them and put them back into a box. Pineda's story isn't going to warm your heart--and I don't think it's intended to. Read the story here at Blackbird.

On "Still Life with Dog" by Misty Urban (9750 words) ***

Sometimes telling a story is like juggling, although I don't juggle, so maybe I'm completely wrong about this. Maybe I should say a story is like juggling ideas and tasks and themes--but especially ideas, and thing. The trick is to bring them all together, and in a good story, this often happens all at once, some climactic scene near the end in which the dog meets the ice cream meets the concept of loneliness and that black hawk helicopter that keeps showing up in the boy's dream--you know, the whole 12 Monkeys thing. And that's what happens here, only this time it's men--several men, and a single woman. Not the making for a good time. Read the story here at Blackbird.

On "Going Away Shoes" by Jill McCorkle (7103 words) ***

I've known of Jill McCorkle for years, but this is the first time I've ever managed to get around to reading something of hers. Here is a polished and professional writer if there ever is one. I love how McCorkle weaves this story around a few key phrases ("pull it"), around soap operas, around family and race. But most of all what I like about this story is how we get a portrait of a woman trapped by duty and obligation. The pacing of this story is sometimes slow, like those summer days when I was a kid at home, watching my own mom clean or wash clothes, while my sister and I sat around watching television game shows, or worse, soap operas, just waiting for the day to end, for something more interesting to come along--I imagine Debby Tyson, this story's main character, would understand. Read the story here at Blackbird.