I <3 Short Kings
Please forward this to Marcello Hernandez.
Good morning! Since I have a lot of new subscribers, I thought I'd introduce myself again. Hi, I’m Liz.
In honor of the Olympics—and to put a face to the name—I’m sharing this picture my mom took of me and my sister in Paris this summer.
We had this view of the Eiffel Tower and asked her to take a picture of us. This is what we got. No notes.
Let me know if your parents are also fans of super zooming.
My intro is short to keep on theme for this week’s newsletter.
My guest is Kendall Shepard.
Kendall has been in open book club from the start. She came to the 2nd ever meeting!
Back then (i.e., 6 months ago) open book club exclusively read short stories and essays, so it’s fitting that Kendall’s list focuses on short reads.
Early members have a special place in my heart. I wouldn’t be here if people like Kendall hadn’t shown up to the 2nd meeting when the open book club account had less than 100 followers and the RSVP link was a Partiful.
Kendall’s clearly a trendsetter. Expect to see these books everywhere now that they’ve been featured.
So here’s Kendall on Short Kings.
And keep reading for a surprise at the end.
I <3 Short Kings
I’m going to start with an extremely heated take, so stay with me: All media, from books to movies to music, could be shorter. You might blame this on my TikTok addiction or history of watching Vine compilations on YouTube during college, but truthfully, there is an art to telling a complete, complex story in a small space.
My stance on this opinion is deeply rooted in Emma Seligman’s Shiva Baby. I was in pure bliss after my first viewing—with a runtime of only 77 minutes, I would never need to defend a three-hour-long movie again. If you want to do that, bring back intermissions during movies.
I tend to be kinder to longer books, as I love losing myself in a novel. However, my heart does sing for a shorter format: short story, essay collection, play. I love the quick in-and-out, just a fragment in a moment, a snapshot of the current moment.
To get on with it, here are my short reads to rule them all:
The Houseguest, Amparo Dávila
She is a writer obsessed with obsession, who makes nightmares come to life through the everyday: loneliness sinks in easily like a razor-sharp knife, some sort of evil lurks in every shadow, delusion takes the form of strange and very real creatures.
Hailed as one of Mexico’s masters of the short story, The Houseguest is Amparo Dávila’s first collection translated into English. For lovers of horror and surrealism, you will find your home in the pages of her short story collection, alongside the other living and possibly breathing creatures that inhabit the same space. Dávila builds on anxiety and anticipation, with a desire to know what happens just on the next page. Her writing is never so terrifying; it keeps you up at night, but your dreams may have other ideas.
Sleepovers, Ashleigh Bryant Phillips
Here, time and memory circle above Phillips’ characters like vultures and angels as they navigate the only landscape they’ve ever known. Corn reaches for rain, deer run blindly, and no matter how hungry or hurt, some forgotten hymn is always remembered.
As much as I love short stories, I love Southern fiction. I spent most of my teens navigating rural South Carolina, and the South proves time and time again to be a place inspiring brilliant, honest, raw work. Sleepovers were my return to Southern literature and created my jumping-off point for future searches of similar material. Any recommendations can hit my inbox immediately, please.
Daddy, Emma Cline
Subtle, sophisticated and displaying an extraordinary understanding of human behavior, these stories are unforgettable.
Until I die, I am an Emma Cline reader and obsesser. My greatest day was when I was allowed into her private Instagram following. While I adore her novels, short stories are, in my opinion, where Cline’s writing truly shines. Like in her novels, there is no clear line on the good guy/bad guy, and Cline enjoys turning stories on their heads to the most interesting perspective. If you’re going to Google one story to read from the collection, I recommend “Arcadia.”
Lost Wax, Jericho Parms
In these essays, Parms exhibits and examines her greatest obsessions: how to describe the surface of marble or bronze, how to embrace the necessary complexities of identity, stillness and movement, life and death—how to be young and alive.
Written primarily within the Metropolitan Museum of Art galleries, this essay collection was a personal turning point for me post-college. After years deep in the throws of the art world trying to think of myself as a writer, and at a time when the personal essay needed a new PR team, I found inspiration in a beautiful collection detailing love, family and art. This collection is a great comfort for those who find themselves standing between everywhere and nowhere.
A View from the Bridge, Arthur Miller
“If I stay there, they will never grow up. They eat the sunshine.”
You know when you need to read a classic drama that feels almost like a Greek tragedy, but you want that set in 1950s Brooklyn? Miller does something magical in his plays, but A View from the Bridge takes top prize for me regarding setting, plot and theme. Touching on immigration, homosexuality, gender roles and desire, the play dives deep into working-class life in post-WWII America and the influx of people to the country. The reader makes a friend of the commentator, examining our player’s actions and morals from above.
An Enemy of the People, Henrik Ibsen
“You see, the point is that the strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone.”
If you were lucky enough to have seen Jeremy Strong in An Enemy of the People this past spring, you’re likely not surprised to find it on my list. While frequently translated and adapted, the core message of the play holds very true to today’s society and communities: how one’s gain can be put before the collective well-being and how many fall in line at will.
Fairview, Jackie Sibblies Drury
“I can’t think
in the face of you telling me who you think I am.”
As we enter the lighter side of the plays, Fairview offers a comedic, simple plot with a great analysis of race and how stories get told. From the start of the play, this very laugh-track family dinner feels off, ushering in the reality of how white writers, reviewers and gaze diminish black and brown stories.
As always, hit me up for book recommendations and further conversation about Greek playwriting. My DMs on Instagram are open. I also just created (simply for promo in this highly regarded newsletter) an Instagram for my dinner party series. It may not go anywhere, but if you’re reading this newsletter, you are definitely invited to the next one.
I’m proud to be the 2nd follower of Kendall’s dinner party series and look forward to the next one. Thank you, Kendall, for writing this week’s letter and for being here from the start.
Now, for the promised surprise..
I added second meeting dates for My Brilliant Friend (on 8/26) and I’m a Fan (on 8/27)!
Both of the meetings are at Bedford Studio in the West Village. There are 20 tickets for each. Go get one!
P.S. if the Marcello Hernandez reference in the header was too niche go watch this.
See you next week,
Liz
short king spring summer and all the time honestly
How to write a headline 101. Also Enemy of the People has been on my list — good reason to go read!