Fifteen Short (But Mighty) Books For Temporarily Distracted Readers
I’m back again. It’s been a long week. I don’t know how your reading’s going but I’m finding that my mind starts wandering all over the place every time I pick up a book. I’ve tried lots of different tricks to kickstart my attention -creating a cosy reading den in a corner of the house I don’t work, sleep or eat in, pacing around the living room whilst reading, reading on the exercise bike, reading first thing in the morning, only reading books I’ve read before- I can still only manage about ten to fifteen minutes of concentration at a time. I have every intention of diving into the new Hilary Mantel, or Ducks Newbury Pond, or The Luminaries, (which I’ve been trying to work myself up to for about three years now), but every time I look at the sort of big big books I usually love, they just seem to be asking an awful lot of me. I read Wolff Hall in twenty four hours when it first came out. At the rate I’m currently reading it would take me twenty four years to get through HM’s latest offering. I just don’t think I have the capacity for a ginormous book right now.
What am I reading? Old favourites, (refer to last week’s book recommendation blog), short stories, (hold your horses for that blog, coming next week), and slim, little books of around 100 pages. 100 pages seems manageable right now. 100 pages might look slight on the bookshelf but, when filled with the words of a writing genius those 100 pages can still leave you captivated, reeling and just as satisfied as any enormous tome. I’ve picked fifteen of my favourite small but mighty books below. Hopefully there’s something that might appeal to you. Seek them out and let me know what you think. Feel free to add in your own recommendations of little but lovel books. I tweet at @jancarson7280. Most of our independent bookstores are closed now, but where they still offer an online service, please try to support them. There’s also an incredible collection of online books available through the library service. You can download and read to your heart’s content safe in the knowledge you’re still supporting authors and local libraries.
Pop by again next week for ten of my favourite short story collections. I’ve “narrowed” my initial list down to forty. It’s going to be a long week trying to decide what makes the final cut. Stay safe and well read. Jan x
Carys Davies – The Redemption of Galen Pike. The perfect place to start your love affair with Carys’ writing. Opening story, The Quiet is a masterclass in building up tension. There’s not a single clunker in the collection.
Raymond Carver – What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. All Carver is holy but What We Talk About is particularly holy and testament to how stories can emerge sleeker and stronger from a really harsh edit.
Sarah Moss – Ghost Wall. Sarah Moss writes so well about the dynamics within families and here she’s pared her story right down to the bones of the relationship. There’s not a single ounce of flab in this wee novella.
Richard Brautigan – Trout Fishing In America. What is it? A novel? A short story collection? Prose poetry? I don’t really care. It completely changed the way I look at language. My copy’s held together with yellowing bits of Scotch tape and leaking pages, it’s been read that much.
Frankie McMillan – My Mother and the Hungarians. I usually find micro fiction a little unsatisfactory, but these tiny stories are so rich and filling, I never feel cheated when I dip into this collection.
Francois Sagan – Bonjour Tristesse. Here began my love affair with French literature and lens flare. Nothing much happens but it doesn’t happen in such an elegant fashion.
Edward Gorey – The Unstrung Harp or Mr Earbrass Writes a Novel. After reading this I felt much better about my own shitty attempts to be taken seriously as a writer. It is good to laugh at yourself sometimes, especially when someone else has gone to the effort of writing down all your ridiculous exploits and illustrating them in such a charming fashion.
Ernest Hemingway – The Old Man and the Sea. Though it does make me feel very thirsty every time I read it, this is the only Hemingway I actually like. I do like it a lot though. I no longer feel the need to apologise for this.
Claire Keegan – Foster. Claire Keegan terrifies me. Her writing is so sharp and so good. Reading her is like reading what God would write if God was Irish and inclined to write rather dark short stories. Afterwards I sometimes feel like there is no point in writing. (See also Marilynne Robinson and George Saunders). I also love the fact that this is just one very long short story. We should have more long short stories nowadays.
Muriel Spark – The Driver’s Seat. I hear Muriel Spark wrote all her novels perfectly on the first attempt. This should make me hate her. But I don’t. Muriel Spark is one of the best things Scotland ever produced, (see also, Del Amitri and Highland Toffee), and this is my favourite of all her books, (or at very least, the half dozen I’ve read).
Henry James – The Turn of the Screw. The ultimate in creepy stories. I’ve been trying for ages to write disturbing short stories where you can’t actually put your finger on why it’s so disturbing. It turns out they’re exceptionally difficult to pull off. Here, James makes it look effortless. Bastard.
Joy Williams – 99 Stories of God. They’re not all about God, but there are 99 of them and they’re tiny and brilliant. Perfect for keeping on your bedside table and mulling over before you fall asleep.
Bernie McGill – Sleepwalkers. I love Bernie’s novels but I really love her short stories. She has a masterful way of getting under her character’s skin and I particularly enjoyed the slightly weird ones in this collection.
Shirley Jackson – We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Merricat and Constance Blackwood are two of my all time favourite characters and this is such a deliciously dark little book. Beware it is like a gateway drug. You’ll not be able to keep yourself from diving head first into Shirley Jackson once you’ve read this.
Samantha Schweblin – Fever Dream. It’s odd. It’s disturbing. It’s perfectly written. It literally had me frozen to the seat for the entire duration. It’s a strong contender for the best book I’ve read this year. (You may remember this slim volume from last week’s recommendations. It’s on twice because it is that good).