A Review of Aimee Bender's Willful Creatures: Stories, written by Michael Flatly-Abrasive (MFA)

Wow, so I get the first post. Which when you think about it I guess is only fitting, since I'm the only actual writer here. Unless you count Shelley. But you shouldn't, because he's a poet. And wordy. So let me rephrase: it is fitting that I write this first post because I am the only actual writer here. Meaning that I write fiction, not poetry or criticism, neither of which are Full-Fledged Writing.

But let's move on to the critical review of Aimee Bender's short story collection Willful Creatures that I've written. Aimee Bender's book is, in short, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. It's sentences are short, but not always sweet. Sometimes they are sour. Or bitter. Or salty. Or even that weird taste, umami, which means savory. And her words are simple, easy. She would never use a word like umami in her stories, because she is a professional.

Like look at these two gems, from the story "The Case of the Salt and Pepper Shakers":

She shut the book. "Case closed," she said.

Just look at how short those sentences are! They're like daggers. Daggers made of diamonds! And the words couldn't be easier--I didn't have to look any of them up in the dictionary. They're easy and yet they're not repetitive. Just peer at how she uses shut in the first sentence and then uses closed. There's something going on there, and it's damn interesting.

Bender's writing reminds me of Rayomd Carver at his best. While I've never actually read anything by Raymond Chandler, I hear that he has the shortest sentences in town, and that they are like daggers. That they cut right to the heart of the matter. In the end, however, I have to say that Aimee Bender's prose is superior to Carver's. Why? Because while Chandler's sentences are indeed like daggers--just go read one, I'm sure you won't be disappointed--the sentences in Willful Creatures are like daggers made of diamonds. In other words, yes, Carver's sentences cut and glint, but Bender's cut AND glint AND sparkle.

That is: while Chandler's words chandle, like a knife chandling a turkey at Thanksgiving, Bender's words sparkle, like diamonds bending light at Christmas.

For example: The boy was born with fingers shaped like keys. All except one, the pinkie on the right hand, had sharp ridges running along their inner length, and a point at the tip. They were made of flesh, with nerves and pores, but of a tougher texture, more hardened and specific. As a child, the boy had a hard time learning to hold a pen and use scissors, but he was resilient and figured out his own method fast enough. His true task was to find the nine doors.

And then at the bottom of the page there's just three dots, which means that there should be a space there, but that only having a space there might be confusing because the space would be at the bottom of the page and would just look like a normal page bottom, and people might miss the fact that a gap or space should be there in the narrative. So the reader reads to the bottom of the page and sees three dots and knows, Wait A Minute, There Should Be A Space There, Something Fishy Must Be Going On, and then before he/she even turns the page must be like Holy Shit, Who Is This Key Boy? And What Are Those Doors? And most importantly, What Crazy Shit Must Be Behind Those Nine Doors That Would Be Locked By Key Fingers? Plus, What's The Deal With That Normal Pinkie? And What Does It Mean When It Says That As A Child, The Boy Had A Hard Time...? Is He Still A Boy Even Though He's Really Old Now? What's Going On? Is Time All Crazy In This Story World? And What About Our Own World? Maybe Our Own World Is Totally Crazy Too!

Bender's words make you not just think these things. They make you feel them. Her words sparkle, as though were written in italics. She somehow creates this sparkly mood, call it wonder, in each story, over and over, and without too many italics. If you read those stories you'll be like: What? A Boy Is Born With An Iron For A Head? When His Parents Have Pumpkin Heads? WTF??? Or: What? This Woman Has Babies Who Are Potatoes? WTF? Or: A Man Goes To The Pet Store To Buy A Little Man? A Little Man? WTF? A Car Made of Dryer Sheets? That Can't Happen! WTF?

Now, I haven't read all of these stories, but I did read about them on the back of the book where, I will note in a purely Platonic aside, there is a very cute and happy looking picture of Aimee Bender. Smiling. Oval-enframed, with hair like Gottfried von Leibniz.



She's that smart. And I don't say this merely because she is a fellow UC Irvine Anteater. Or because I think she might help me one day publish my own collection of short stories. Or because I hope to one day date her. I say this because it is deep and beautiful and true. I say, Aimee Bender, bravo.