I’ve got a story in the September issue of PANK, which just went live today.
PANK is a fantastic publication I’ve wanted to get into for quite a while. I’m so excited to be part of this issue. You can find it here, and if you so choose you can hear me read it to you. (DO choose that. I mean…audio files of the authors reading their pieces to you? How awesome is that?)
Oh wow. Very forceful, and raw. I’ve read it three times now, and I’m still worried about the ending. Throat-grippingly good, really, and I LIKE not quite knowing what to think of what’s happening here.
I can’t stop thinking about the baby, I have a pain in my heart and throat, Your voice is beautiful, thank you
A-fucking-mazing story. Thank you. It was really a treat to hear you read it….
Sadly, the reading out loud part wouldn’t happen. The story stopped somewhat sooner than I predicted it would. So she didn’t push the mother off the overlook and keep the baby for herself? I suppose that would have been too obvious, both forensically and the other way.
Thanks so much for reading it, guys! It means a lot to me. I know it’s a disturbing read–it was a hard one to write.
Mary: I’m sorry to hear the audio didn’t work. As for the ending… I leave it to the reader to decide what she did next.
WOW… Beautifully crafted. I was immediately drawn into the story, expecting Karen to take Nikki to the beach at first for a warm and fuzzy natural childbirth at sunrise, but then a panicked adrenaline built as the red flags started to crop up about Karen’s motivation and intent. And, the ending? Of course we WANT to know what happens next, whether Karen is able to pull it together or whether there’s some awful, violent tragedy (I was expecting her to chuck the baby into the river at the end, personally). But I like how you stopped the story there, in a moment where we’re still conflicted about whether Karen deserves our sympathy or whether she is about to commit a horrific act of violence. I was left thinking that all crimes of passion must be precipitated by a moment like this one, a moment in which it’s not too late to turn back and do the right thing. Also, it was a treat to listen to you read. I haven’t heard your voice in so long. Portland has eroded your New Jersey accent. 😉
Rebecca, I will have you know that I NEVER had a New Jersey accent! Clearly your memory is flawed. I will kindly remind you, dear childhood friend, that my mom is from Schenectady and my dad had such a thick Brooklyn accent it was practically a speech impediment. The 13 years I spent in Jersey could never have left their mark in the face of that kind of influence at home. Perish the thought.
But thanks for reading the story!
xo
Wow, Cari. . . WOW. Beautiful. This way that you have of saying a thing so plainly yet so devastatingly at the same time is something I’ve long wished I could do.
Thank you, Jodi!
I though it was horribly beautiful – a very dark and intense story, and I think it stopped at exactly the right point. The unknown – the ‘what did she do?’ – just looms over the story with dreadful speculation.
Loved it.