My Short Story Collection Has a Title: Silent Negotiations

My story collection has a title! I’ll debut the cover when that is done.

In February 2027, the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point will publish my collection of short stories through Cornerstone Press, their university press. I’m excited, and nervous, and grateful. This is my first book, and like a first-time parent, I’m not sure what to expect, so I gather information. I talk to other writers who have published books. I attend book launches and author talks. I read blogs and articles and attend seminars about how to nurture a book in the world.

When Cornerstone accepted my manuscript, my publication date was more than two years away. But now it’s about fifteen months away, and if there is one thing I know about time — it’s how quickly it flies. I need to promote my book, and for that it needs a title.

When I submitted my collection in November 2024, it was called Fishing Around in the Dog Days of Summer, after one of the stories in the book. I chose the title for a couple of reasons. First, I really like its eponymous story about two young sisters with a tenuous relationship who go crayfishing on a hot, humid August day. Second, all the characters in my short story collection are fishing around for something they want. They each dip a line in the murky waters of their lives during their own dog days, hoping to catch something they long for.

But as much as I liked my original title, I began to feel it was too long and would be hard for people to remember. And I worried if the cover depicted a fishing scene along with the title, potential readers might think all my stories were about fishing.

I looked at my table of contents and considered other story titles. “Silent Negotiations” jumped out at me. It’s short and easy to remember, and it’s another story I really like. In 2020, it won second place in the Hal Prize Fiction Contest. (So, I feel the title has good mojo.) In the story a couple who have been married over forty years renegotiate the parameters of their marriage during a disagreement. Each spouse speaks their mind, but only to a point. The rest of their negotiations are silent, yet significant. The characters in my other stories are like the old married couple in “Silent Negotiations.” They all want something. They all talk to each other, but they leave things unsaid. And what is left unsaid, changes who they are with one another and themselves.

After I decided to change my title to Silent Negotiations, I asked my writing friends and readers what they thought. They had all read my stories several times, so I knew they would be good judges as to whether or not the new title would be a good fit for the collection. They all loved Silent Negotiations.

Last weekend I attended the Wisconsin Writers Association Conference in Stevens Point. The Cornerstone Press editors were there too. I talked to Dr. Ross Tangedal about using Silent Negotiations as my title. He liked it too, and so did his student editors.

My book has an official title!

Now, I’m excited to see some cover designs. Before I know it, Silent Negotiations will be out in the world.

I’m hoping to use this picture for my author photo. Photo credit: Max Youngquist

Book Reviews of My Latest Reading Accomplishments, Part 4 of 6: The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald

[To read Part 1, click here. To read Part 2, click here. To read Part 3, click here.]

The Bookshop by Penelope Fitzgerald, 1978

In 1959, Hardborough is a quiet English village on an island between the sea and a river. It’s a town steadily losing bits of itself as the years go by — its sources of income, its land to erosion, its youth to the cities. It’s a town where everyone is intimate with everyone else’s business. If you sneeze over breakfast, by noon people all around town will have asked, “Do you have a cold or is it hay fever?”

Florence Green, a childless widow nearing middle age, decides to open a bookshop. For ten years she has lived in Hardborough. Over the years, she has carefully measured the words and actions of her neighbors against an imaginary yardstick representing the progress of her acceptance in the community. She believes her fellow townspeople will shop in her store.

Florence obtains a loan from the bank and purchases a property referred to as Old House, which has stood empty for many years and is rumored to be haunted. Florence converts the first floor into a bookstore, and having given up her flat, she lives on the second floor.

For the first time, Florence is invited to a party at the Stead by Mrs. Gamart, a woman of status and means in Hardborough. Mrs. Gamart smiles and chats with Florence, appearing to approve of her bookshop. Mrs. Gamart, with all the glib banter of a cobra offering to watch over a nest of eggs, claims she wants to help Florence. However, what Mrs. Gamart really wants is Old House because she wishes to turn it into an arts center. She suggests to Florence that the soon-to-be-empty wet fish shop would be a better place for a bookstore.

But Florence doesn’t want to sell. She has legal title to Old House, which comes with a rumbling ghost, and who doesn’t want a ghost in their bookstore? Especially one that while noisy at times is always standoffish. Although Florence has legal title, Mrs. Gamart has money, status, and connections to influential people. As Florence hires a clerk, stocks the shelves, and wrestles with the question of whether or not to sell Vladimir Nabokov’s new controversial novel Lolita in her store, Mrs. Gamart calls on her connections and forges a devious plan to obtain Old House for an arts center.

It was short-listed for the Booker Prize.

Why I loved this book . . .

The Bookshop is a slim novel that reads like a long literary short story. I love these types of novels, strung together like a pearl necklace with graduated beads. The early scenes start out small, then expand like the pearls in the necklace: perfectly shaped and incrementally growing in size — until the largest moment of the story hangs like the largest pearl in the luminous strand. And at that moment, a truth about people and life resonates. These are the kind of novels that play in my mind for months and years to come.

Book Reviews of My Latest Reading Accomplishments, Part 2 of 6: I Cheerfully Refuse by Leif Enger

[To read Part 1, click here.]

I Cheerfully Refuse by Leif Enger, 2024

The title of this book works on so many levels and in so many ways.

Somewhere in the near future, perhaps twenty or thirty years from now, Leif Enger’s novel takes readers on a journey of magical-dystopian realism along the shores of Lake Superior and out into its waters. His main character Rainy has a happy life. He loves his wife, Lark, who runs a bookstore inside of a bakery shop. He loves to read and to play his bass guitar in a band with his buddies. He has inherited Flower, a small sailboat, which he works to restore because he fancies himself a bit of a sailor.

But readers soon realize that something is wrong with the world in which Rainy lives. Books have nearly disappeared and reading is frowned upon. The climate has changed, and Lake Superior has warmed, creating powerful storms. Lawlessness, mostly unchecked, lurks in places once considered safe. Ominous medicine ships anchored near the shores, seek to cure the youth by breaking their willful behavior and bending their thoughts in a manner deemed acceptable by the wealthy Astronauts, who wish to mold them into compliant, cheaply-paid laborers.

When Kellen, a young man, arrives in town, Rainy and Lark allow him to live in their attic. Kellen himself is not trouble, but trouble is following him. And when that trouble arrives, he is a man called Werryck, leaving Rainy no choice but to flee in his sailboat upon the tempestuous waters of Lake Superior.

Enger’s tale is spellbinding. His lyrical prose hovers above the dark underbelly of a society that has come undone. We experience a world of natural beauty and serenity along Minnesota’s North Shore. Yet, we know something is profoundly wrong because we can feel the pulsating evil that lives beneath Enger’s exquisite prose. Enger doesn’t dwell on how the world in which Rainy lives fell apart. Instead, as we follow Rainy on his journey, Enger trusts us to ponder those possibilities.

From the standpoint of craft . . .

I admire Leif Enger’s rich prose. He uses language to create imagery and metaphors that are fresh, but never out of place or over the top. His descriptions of Lake Superior, the weather, sailing, and playing a bass guitar add realism to his story. Lake Superior and its weather become a character in his novel. His story is tightly woven: A throw-away remark, or an infectious smile, or a benign action may seem to have been randomly tossed into the story, but later I would realize it was a telling moment, making me feel like I’m a smart reader.

Several people who read Enger’s book before I did would say they loved the book, but it was dark. And here is where Enger’s writing shines. Some of his themes are dark, but others are hopeful. Some of what happens in the story is sad and scary, but he tells the story in a way that gives his readers a reason to hope. Enger knows what to tell in a story, what to hint at, and what to leave to a reader’s imagination. If you’re a writer looking for a mentor book with a story told as a hero’s journey, this is a great book to read.

Book Reviews of My Latest Reading Accomplishments, Part 1 of 6: Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier

I’ve been reading a lot. Every time I finished one of the books in this six-part review, I thought, “This was wonderful. I should post about it on my blog.” But, dear fellow readers, did I? No. Instead I read another book. However, these books, now stacked next to my computer, kept harrumphing at me, like when my restless grandchildren who’ve been so good finally run out of patience while waiting for me to take them to the park. And so, I placated the books by telling them I would write a short review for each of them. But things got out of hand, and the two- to three-hundred-word reviews I’d envisioned grew and grew. And try as I might, I couldn’t bring myself to cut any words because I loved the books. So I’m posting the reviews in six parts, in alphabetical order by author’s last name.

If you can’t own the painting, read the book!

Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier, 1999

Seventeen-year-old Griet is hired out by her parents as a domestic servant to the household of Johannes Vermeer. From the first pages of the novel, it’s clear that something, although unspoken, has transpired between Griet and Vermeer. Griet’s acceptance in the artist’s home is mixed. She is Protestant and the Vermeers are Catholic. She is distrusted and disliked by Vermeer’s wife, one of his daughters, and the head domestic servant. Life is difficult for Griet until one day when Vermeer insists that she be the only person allowed to clean his studio. A choice his mother-in-law completely supports. Vermeer soon relies on Griet to mix his paints, and he occasionally seeks her advice when setting his scenes.

Tracy Chevalier has written a historical novel as exquisite as Johannes Vermeer’s famous painting for which the book is named. Set in the 1660s in Delft, Netherlands, Chevalier portrays the life and paintings of Vermeer as accurately as she can because not much is known about Vermeer. Girl with a Pearl Earring is considered his masterpiece, but the girl in the painting is a mystery. Chevalier’s prose is as artfully chosen and applied to the page just as Vermeer’s brilliant colors and brushstrokes were applied to his canvases. Her novel paints a captivating fictional story about how Vermeer came to paint the girl.

From the standpoint of craft . . .

As a writer I admire Chevalier’s book for the historical details that make the late 17th Century Netherlands come to life. She puts us in the streets and marketplaces of Delft. She takes us inside Vermeer’s home, and gives us a first-row seat to the domestic life of a financially insecure upper-class family and their servants, with all their petty jealousies, passions, kindnesses, and cruelties. Additionally, Chevalier’s novel is worth studying for the great sense simmering tension she creates between Vermeer and Griet.