In my twenties I was a feminist cad. I think most of these stories were my attempt to reconcile that romantic confusion. I have trouble owning up to being the guy who wrote all these crumpled little stories about drinking and pregnancy and getting dumped. (So many Carveresque non-conversations through cigarette smoke!) But that guy was me, half a lifetime ago. Occasionally there are aliens, or ghosts, or sex. But mostly: drinking and passively-aggressively arguing.
I quit writing stories like that when I started grad school. When I reread these things now I realize the author avatar in them is usually the villain.
2002 burned away that caddish boy. I have included here a few pieces I created that year. They are maybe tone poems, fragments of a years-long static design experiment.
“Eliak Falls” won an award and was published in a literary journal. I wrote “Ellen Ahead” 20 years before I knew what it would mean. “Seven Eleven” is my favorite. “Strange Books” is a good one too, and was published nationally. A few other stories were published in literary magazines of regional (midwestern) interest.