Short Stories

Tuesday, 26 June 2012

Tomorrow I am giving my first speech in one of the Advanced Communicator Series books: Interpretive Reading. The first project calls for an interpretive reading of a short story. The toughest part is finding a short story that fits the 8-10 minute time allotment (with allowances for a ~45 second introduction), or that can be edited to fit.

I have a three-ring binder of my favorite short stories. I’ve added to it (slowly) over the years. The first stories I put in there were xeroxed copies of stories I read out of text books in junior high school. Later, I inserted a story from Alfred Hitchcock (which I came across in his biography The Dark Side of Genius) and one from my good buddy Ryan Sutter. Most recently, I added in a short story from an anthology I read in a Hamline class in the spring of 2010.

Anyway, I thumbed through the 15 or so stories this morning looking for a good option. My first preference was “The Lady or the Tiger,” by Frank Stockton. This ranks as my all-time favorite short story. Unfortunately, it’s just too long for my purposes, and I couldn’t think of a coherent way to truncate it.

My second choice was Saki’s “The Interlopers.” Easily my second-favorite short story, it may have been the superior choice, what with its dialog and colorful phrases. But it was likewise too long. It took me about 15 minutes to read it, and I considered chopping out half of it to bring it down to size, but I just couldn’t do it.

Then I tried “The Princess and the Tin Box,” by James Thurber. I love this story, and I think it might have been the most fun to read to the audience. But it had the opposite problem of the other two: It’s too short. I read it in about 4 minutes.

Then I tried the aforementioned short story I first read at Hamline: Steve de Jarnatt’s “Rubiaux Rising.” This is an amazing tale but, again, a little too long. I could have shortened it but, even with an abridged version, it seems just a tad too gruesome for me to read to my co-workers. I don’t want anyone making disgusted faces at me while I’m reading.

I ended up choosing “Charles,” by Shirley Jackson. When I read it this morning, I found it took me between 10 and 11 minutes to do so. In the final third of the story, there are a few paragraphs that, I felt, could be safely removed to shorted it a bit. In fact, I think my abridged version is even better than the original, which takes an odd turn in those paragraphs. So, “Charles” it is. Wish me luck.

Oh – and if you want a curious hypothesis, check this out: How geography shapes culture.

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

At the end of the work day today, I attended my final session of the strength training class. The class lasted eight weeks. It’s starting up again in a couple of weeks, and I think I will sign up again. For only $25, it’s a good deal. I like that it gets me off my butt for a while.

Anyway, I went into the men’s room to change into shorts and a t-shirt. When I came out, I began walking back to my cube to drop off my regular clothes. I passed by the water cooler/coffee machine area, and a lady from my division was standing there. She looked at me and said, “Legs!” Not knowing how to respond, I simply laughed.

That’s it. That’s all she said. I laughed and continued on. After dropping off my clothes, I doubled back to head up the stairs to the class, and I passed my co-worker once again. This time, I had something to say. I gestured toward my calves and said, “Here’s your last chance to them before I go upstairs.” Then she laughed.

I know they’re nice legs but, ladies, please, try to control yourselves.