On "8 Stories I'll Never Tell" by Ashley Cowger (804 words) ***

Cowger's "story," if it is to be called that, is really more a meditation on what is relevant as a story (in that sense, of course, Cowger's story, in breaking the rules of storytelling--no substantial plot--breaks them twice: choosing subjects that supposedly don't amount to worth of storytelling). I'm not sure that I agree with Cowger's analysis, that there are no stories here, but I understand the thinking. Do characters have to change? Most people don't, and much of my own fiction revolves around such people. Such stories, though, can be boring. People at least have to have an opportunity, I suppose--and turn that opportunity down--and many I know would say it has to the "last" opportunity, so that the story has resonance. That's tricky, though, telling a story without change, or even without a long-standing last chance for change, but in a way that it isn't boring. But then, I don't know that Cowger is saying that such stories aren't for telling--her very introduction of the subject suggests that there should be no limits on what constitutes the subject of a story. Hers is a compelling piece, no matter. Read the full explanation here at the Pedestal Magazine.

On "This Morning" by Eric V. Neagu (400 words) ****

Like James Thurber's film-adapted "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," Neagu's story focuses on the power of the imagination--specifically with reference to our own daily life. Its very brevity demonstrates the power of the mind, the way that we can achieve in minutes what others cannot in lifetimes, and yet can't even manage to finish our yard work. Read this short, fun piece here at the Pedestal Magazine.

On "Juan Tomas and the Pale Yellow Letters" by Shellie Zacharia (2359 words) ***

Pedestal Magazine is back online after some unfortunate incidents with a hacker, and this newest edition features three new short stories. Pedestal is a strange online creature for me. It generally features moderately well-published authors and competent fiction, but I must not quite understand the editors' aesthetic because I often end up wondering, why these particular stories? In other words, they rarely scream to me, "Boy, I'm glad I'm alive to have read that." But then, I guess, how many stories do scream that? Maybe, if I'm lucky, one a month. Anyway, of the three stories featured in this latest version of the journal, my favorite is "Juan Tomas and the Pale Yellow Letters." What do I like about it? First, it has a good beginning, a line that roped me in and made me want to know more about this character. We start with a woman having a breakdown, leaving her fiancé. Second, it does something kind of daring for contemporary fiction--it presents itself almost as a frame story. One doesn't see that often these days anymore, and most often when one does, it's because someone doesn't understand how far the story has come in the past one hundred years. I mean, we're not in the nineteenth century anymore folks. But Zacharia clearly does. The outside layer of the story has as much--or more story--than the inside layer of the story, but the two work off each other in a way that neither could exist independently. I wasn't screaming, "I'm so glad I'm alive to read this" at the end, but I enjoyed my stay in the little world Zacharia dreamed up nevertheless. Read the story here.