There is one story in this issue, Losing the Dog’s Paddle by Miah Arnold, that deserves some thought on style. It is a nine and a half-page sentence. The story is told in 2nd person pov, but of course, because of the nature of the tale, comes off more like first person. Meaning, it is a soliloquy of a rambling stream of dialogue that I don’t feel is stream of consciousness as much as likening it to a person who just must tell you what’s happened to them and no amount of polite nods or gestures will get them to shut up. The start-up:
At twenty-three years old, the way things turned out, you had to buy a Greyhound ticket to make the cross-country trip from New York City to Roosevelt, Utah, where you hoped to arrive in time to say your final good-byes to your maternal grandfather, seventy-six years old, who raised you with more gentleness and wisdom than he did his own kids, who always called you "the smartest cookie on the family shrub," who never doubted you would become a world-famous artist, or business woman…(p. 177)
And so it continues, non-stop, through the trip where "you" smoke some dope, think you’ve been fucked on the bus-ride by a young man, get off at the next stop and flag down a trucker who seems like a nice, older man and buys you a meal, warns you and leaves you fifty bucks.
But the style; it’s not how someone would think, but rather how someone would give you a hyped-up version of their adventure. The problem here, for me, was that I felt like my readerly rights were being abused. There was no reason other than this presentation of a breathless retelling to leave out the periods and paragraphs. While it obviously serves this purpose, I did what I would do if this person were telling me all this face to face–nine pages’ worth; I tuned out.
In reading, while the format tells us when a breath or a break is to be taken (God bless the comma!) there is still the reader’s own option given as to when a glance away, a phone can be answered, or the book closed and dinner eaten in between. This story was difficult to continue reading, even with the adventure, because for one thing, the third person is a tough story to foist on a reader; he must accept it even more so than first person, even though either can be taken as self or listener. (I always choose "listener" stance.)
The story was different, it was a bold effort in format, but for me, it didn’t come off.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology