I’m sharing my story “Quitting Finn” with you. It’s a close look at personal and festering politics in the business of hairdressing and salon life. It was my editor’s favourite work in the collection, and the story that garnered me a “Try us again!” hand-written note from the New Yorker that was pinned to my bulletin board over my desk for years.
I’m thoroughly enjoying the collected stories of Lucia Berlin, A Manual for Cleaning Women. (I found an audio version of the titular-story online that you might enjoy.)
I’m not finished the read, but to date her story “Toda Luna, Todo Año” is my favourite. In it, examples of using description to further plot (description AS plot), and the theme is one of substantial giving and taking between humans without a sense of owing or being owed.
Berlin worked a number of non-writing jobs in her years as she raised four sons and scribbled stories late into the night. And battled alcoholism to hard-won sobriety.
She worked as an ER nurse and hospital receptionist, housekeeper, telephone operator, teacher, as well as other jobs.
Share and compare two back-to-back Emergency Room stories: the first—“Emergency Room Notebook, 1977” (and the second, immediately following—more on that below) is “slice-of-life”… or is it more? Where might it have gone? Or is it enough as is? The story following it contains a flashback that takes over quite perfectly.
How do slice-of-life pieces work for you? Are they enough? Do they leave you hungry? Can you put together an entire collection of them?
What is “slice-of-life”?
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