Aaron Burch is both nostalgic and looking forward to what's to come, all while trying to enjoy the present as much as possible. A Kind of In-Between looks at the last few years of Aaron's life (getting divorced, teaching, being a writer, settling into life in the Midwest in his 40s) and also back to his childhood (being adopted, an almost obnoxiously happy and loving childhood, growing up on the West Coast), in curious, playful snapshots that become a whole greater than the sum of their parts. These short essays are about growing up and memory; who Aaron is and who he wants to be; road trips and home and collectibles and family and friendship; how he sees himself, how he wants others to see him, and all the overlaps and incongruencies therein; being a stepfather and son and child and adult and husband and ex and teacher and writer and friend; the things we keep and the things we let go; how to try to make sense of being a person in this world.
AARON BURCH grew up in Tacoma, WA. He is the author of the memoir/literary analysis Stephen King’s The Body; a short story collection, Backswing; and a novella, How to Predict the Weather. He is the founding editor of Hobart, which he edited from 2001–2022, and more recently he founded and edits HAD and WAS (Words & Sports). He lives in Ann Arbor, MI.
His first novel, YEAR OF THE BUFFALO, was released in November 2022 from American Buffalo Books, which is available here:
I positively savored this book. It was my companion for a few weeks; I just kept wanting more sentences. The way Burch slips from one sentence to a new one makes writing seem like not the arduous task some writers claim it to be but rather a relief, necessity, an unlocking—with wit and wisdom and nostalgia and hopefulness all tucked into the telling
A Kind of In-Between by Aaron Burch is a book of essays that reads like short stories, exploring Burch’s life as a teacher, writer, divorcee, and a 40-something Midwesterner. The book description from the publisher describes it best: “Aaron Burch is both nostalgic and looking forward to what's to come, all while trying to enjoy the present as much as possible. A Kind of In-Between looks at the last few years of Aaron's life (getting divorced, teaching, being a writer, settling into life in the Midwest in his 40s) and also back to his childhood (being adopted, an almost obnoxiously happy and loving childhood, growing up on the West Coast), in curious, playful snapshots that become a whole greater than the sum of their parts. These short essays are about growing up and memory; who Aaron is and who he wants to be; road trips and home and collectibles and family and friendship; how he sees himself, how he wants others to see him, and all the overlaps and incongruencies therein; being a stepfather and son and child and adult and husband and ex and teacher and writer and friend; the things we keep and the things we let go; how to try to make sense of being a person in this world.”
Aaron Burch is many things to many people but mostly known as a teacher and a writer but to some he’s a live-music fan and divorced dude yet a jovial person nonetheless who writes like he talks, about anything and everything, and he ponders so much—the universe!—and is able to jot these ponderings down as easily as baking a pie (is baking a pie really that easy?!?!) while making you laugh and contemplate your place in said universe and think about things like the afterlife, helping a deer stuck in a fence, what it’s like to cut down a tree in the middle of campus with a chainsaw, looking cool in photos for social media even though he doesn’t want to look cool in photos, learning to ollie on a skateboard, or riding bikes with his buddy, or, or, so many things, but he does it with style and class and humor and thoughtfulness and it’s almost like he’s writing fiction but it’s not fiction because it’s his real life, but it sounds like fiction and it feels like fiction and did you know (he teaches fiction???) or rather do you care to know that he’s written several books and they’re all great, but especially this one because it’s short and zippy and funny; and you won’t want it to end because life after the pandemic seems rather pointless and it’s nice to just... laugh.
This book made me laugh, a lot.
I enjoyed this book and I highly recommend it. I would give this book 5 stars.
"I'm somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania, driving around this big, long turn while also going down a decent decline. I don't know how steep; I don't really have any idea how to measure or guesstimate that kind of thing. I can tell it's steeper than anything in Michigan but less so than Washington, a version of the kind of in-between that I return to again and again—known but not, neither childhood nor adult, not quite then or now, here or there."
Simple but brilliant. Burch brings light to the mundane, reminiscing on quiet moments that may have a bigger impact than anticipated. I thoroughly enjoyed the narrative voice from essay to essay. There is a level of authenticity to Burch's reflections that makes even the most ordinary of subjects shine.
A consistently charming and thought-provoking meditation on time, memory, and nostalgia that keeps looping back on itself in interesting ways. As I read, I felt steeped in the mysteries of time and warmly invited (sometimes overtly) to participate in the many acts of wondering that permeate the text, both about Aaron and myself: Why do we remember the things we do? Why those things and not other things? How have those memories shaped our ideas of who we are? One of the chapters moves exactly like that, question by question, evoking an intimacy that made me feel like the author was an old comrade of mine, or that I was one of his. Memory does funny things, as this book poetically captures.
Pretty fantastic. Of course, there were some stories that I liked more than others and there were overlapping themes (but I guess there should be when dealing with such big things like divorce, family and self).
I think the thing that I loved about this so much was how much emotion was on each page. That rather than printed in ink the words were printed with something straight from the heart. Afterwards, I felt a sense of reflectiveness that I hadn't felt in a long time, thinking about my life. Also, I found it quite inspiring because it has the casualness of a well-versed friend telling a story, and then inviting you to tell yours next.
An essay collection that becomes an evocative interregnum between moment and memory, oscillating with wild flare. Burch's honesty is matched by his insight, and the collection becomes wholly cohesive in its themes—personhood, passivity, placement—while offering up surprising variance in structure. Brief and resonant, hewn from a singular voice.
This collection of short essays exudes charm and thoughtfulness. The creativity within each piece is truly captivating, and the writing is skillfully executed.