So many stories and writers contained here! I loved getting a glimpse into the minds and snippets of life of these writers--this anthology is aptly named Brief Encounters. I read this book as part of the required reading for a creative writing class and am glad I was introduced to it. An inspiration for my own creative non-fiction writing practice.
Stories and sentences that stood out:
The entirety of "One Long Sentence" by Sven Birkerts. pg. 38
The entirety of "No Results Found" by Nicholas Montemarano. pg. 85
"This I loved to do. It was laborious, but I enjoyed watching my progress--order obliterating chaos. I've always liked repetitive, incremental tasks like that." pg. 105 (about placing mahjong pieces from "The Renaissance" by Lynn Sharon Schwartz)
"Red is the dying leaves just as dying stars exhibit a Mars-like tint before they go--evidence of their passing, yet just as much evidence of their life." pg. 146 (from "Red" by Jericho Parms)
"The kind of weeping--silent, full--that might be reserved for blue, except that it hoods our lids and circles the underside of the eye in red. This, the kind of weeping I learned from my mother, the kind you wake to the next morning and nurse like jet lag, like a hangover, face puffed, swollen, a little older around the eyes. The red of rage and grief and euphoric sadness; the red-eye of weightlessness, or rebirth." pg. 147 (from "Red" by Jericho Parms)
The entirety of "Star Light, Star Bright" by Jane Brox. pg. 153
The entirety of "What the Osprey Knows" by Pam Houston. pg. 166
The entirety of "Foul Ball" by Greg Glazner. pg. 174
"The stadium is left alone and the fan too returns to his solitude: to the I who had been we. The fan goes off, the crowd breaks up and melts away, and Sunday becomes as melancholy as Ash Wednesday after the death of Carnival." pg. 185 (from "The Fan" by Eduardo Galeano)
"Between 1976 and 1995, I'd see my father a handful of times--funerals, weddings, a chance meeting or two--and in those times we'd talk about nothing in particular, a gulf of anger and sadness filled with ellipses of conversation. When those silences became too much, when it became clear that genetics alone could not fill in for words, he'd turn to baseball." pg. 187 (from "Joltin' Joe Has Left and Gone Away" by Tod Goldberg)
"When I didn't respond, because I was somewhere between crying and vomiting, the two poles I typically battled in his presence, he changed the subject." pg. 189 (from "Joltin' Joe Has Left and Gone Away" by Tod Goldberg)
The entirety of "Swerve" by Brenda Miller. pg. 253
The entirety of "Between" by Stuart Dybek. pg. 255
"When I walked the Gulf Coast beach for the first time, age fifteen, I was that girl from the cold city, tanning too quickly in her stringy striped bikini, bare feet marking sand, sun-blond and uneasy in her long swimmer's body, no tattoos yet, or surgeries, or histories of love." pg. 261 (from "Crease" by Barrie Jean Borich)
"She will not remember if she longed for any part of those bare-chested linebackers, collarbones glinting with Italian gold, their bodies taut as they dove into the breakers. She will only be sure of what she did not want: their babies, their houses, their hovering mothers, their jealous breath in her ear." pg. 262 (from "Crease" by Barrie Jean Borich)
The entirety of "Gifts" by Suzanne Berne. pg. 275
"I pretend that a memory remains as still and compliant as a photo, but a memory is not a photograph: a memory morphs, slipping undetected from one side of the brain to the other and back again, excising plot lines, adding characters, altering the personal politics of the figures. Though memories retell themselves at every opportunity, shape-shifters that can't be trusted, they do, after Sontag, become the norm for the way things appear. They do change the very idea of reality. What's real becomes what-was which becomes what-is. Try and frame that." pg. 284 (from "The Blur Family" by Joe Bonomo)
"Both of these women are writers which is to say they are born and bred readers, people who begin and end the day with words streaming before them on the page, on the screen, moving from gutter to margin, back and forth in the sublime rhythm of that most intimate of relations: writer's mind to reader's mind." pg. 314 (from "Reading" by Patricia Hampl)
"You can see this happiness, the contentment of absolute independence of mind, on the subway, people performing this bravura act of interiority in public, reading their way past the uncaring crush of strangers, into the mysterious liberation they achieve in those secret pages. It's the privacy of reading that amazes. The writer's audience is always just one sequestered soul at a time." pg. 314 (from "Reading" by Patricia Hampl)
"I am speaking here of the nature of rhythm, pitch, melody, phrasing, and harmony. They five food groups of the soul." pg. 318 (from "The Revolution Needs a Song" by Marvin Bell)