"What is a short story? As a writer, I’d rather ask: What can I make the short story do for me?"
You can read the full blog post here, your thoughts on my thoughts very welcome!
and find out more about the book here:
"What is a short story? As a writer, I’d rather ask: What can I make the short story do for me?"
When I started compiling my personal anthology, at first I thought it would be more of a Desert Island short stories, the ones that have stayed with me for years, the stories I use over and over again in workshops and which leave me reeling each time I read them (my requirement for a great short story). But then I stepped back and noticed a theme running through: Family. Not just the one we are born into, but the families we choose, be that in romantic relationships or friendships. This is something that crops up in my own work again and again – my first collection turned out (unplanned) to be about different ways to approach parenthood, or non-parenthood, and all my stories (as perhaps all stories of any length are) address the difficulties of relating to other people. These are 12 of my all-time favourites, varying in length from a few hundred words to a few thousand, and moving from the UK to America, New Zealand, Ireland and Israel. I would be very happy with them on a desert island – and they are all available to read online too. I hope you are left reeling from some of them too.
'Mother' by Grace Paley, First published in Later The Same Day (FSG, 1985), included in Sudden Fiction, edited by Robert Shapard and James Thomas (Peregrine Smith, 1986), and available to read online here
This is one of the first very short stories I ever read, in an anthology of “sudden fiction” edited by Robert Shapard and James Thomas and published by Norton in 1983, and I was knocked sideways by it. How is it possible to do all this in just over a page?...
You have from now until 1st December 2017 to send us a story up to 1000 words long. We challenge you to open your imagination to the strange ways of quantum particles and anticipate a new era of quantum technology
Mother Superior agrees to fund Emmylene’s equipment.
“Science is so soothing,” she says, her deep voice making it sound biblical.
Soothing? thinks Emmylene, almost tempted, once again, to blaspheme. Memories of frogs’ bodies slit open for prying fingers and the shrieking of one girl who vomited violently. Not so much, she thinks.
“Pouring from one test tube to the other, the elements of life,” says Mother Superior. Emmylene sees that faraway look in her eyes.
“Yes,” she says. “Soothing. I’ll go and place the order.”
“Thank you, Sister Morris. Bless your endeavours.” Mother Superior sits back behind her desk and Emmylene goes to phone the supplier.

"When asked to write a blog post about a poem from my collection Terms and Conditions, at first I didn’t know which one to pick. And what to say about it? But when I leafed (on my Kindle, electronic leafing) through the book, this one stood out, the longest title and the feeling behind it still so raw, so present. And about what came after, what I discovered.Read the rest of the blog post here...
‘After Seeing Monet's Waterlilies And Then Hearing the News’ is exactly what happened. Let’s examine this like a journalist (which I used to be): Where, What, Why, When, Who.
Where was I? In the Portland Art Museum in Portland, Oregon.
What was I doing there? I was in Portland taking a poetry course (with Sharon Olds. Yes, SHARON OLDS. I wanted only to sit at her feet. Oh my.)
Why the Art Museum? A few of us, my new classmates and their friends, decided to take time off, go into the city, see some art.
When? Now this is the question...
This year sees the publication not just of my third short story collection, but also my first poetry collection. POETRY. When we last met, I was not a poet. Don’t tell anyone, but I didn't like poetry. I didn't understand it, I liked my words to stretch from one margin to the other. Line breaks? Why would anyone want to do that? How do you read them? What is a line? Where are my sentences?
So, how did I get from that to complete adoration of the line break, an insatiable appetite for reading poetry, and even to calling myself a poet?
Very slowly. And with many shots of permission along the way.
Permission to write poetry came differently from short story permission. I had always been writing prose (I never called it “prose” until I started hanging out with poets, for goodness’ sake!). I read stories as a child, so I knew roughly what one should look like on the page. After a few years, though, I needed permission to take myself seriously as a writer – and then the largest permission injection to propel me to my next stage: taking risks in my writing, experimenting...
Hello! In the run-up to the publication of my debut poetry collection, Terms and Conditions (see the gorgeous cover on the left, by artist Hollie Chastain), I'm delighted to read you four new poems from the book - and to give you details about my launch events in Manchester (July 27th) and London (July 31st), do head to my website to find out more. Here is this month's audio - happy listening! This beguiling collection of writing defies categorisation and is unlike anything I've ever read before. Some Of Us Glow More Than Others is like a 21st century Edgar Allen Poe meets Margaret Atwood, with a sprinkling of Ursula Le Guin. The bright and sometimes eerie thread of science runs through it, reminding us of our fundamentally biological nature, and illuminating the boundaries between us and technology. Hershman's masterful, crystal clear hand weaves together satire, poetry, ethical commentary and science fiction into a tender, faintly dystopian treatment of the human condition. Science is Hershman's muse, but Some Of Us Glow More Than Others is never sterile, and teems with the possibilities that she invites the reader to consider. Her lyrical vignettes and fragments of intriguing stories leave the reader wondering: is this the future, or an imaginative counterfactual past / a reimagination of what could have been? She reframes the familiar by tweaking small details to create unexpected and unsettling scenes that stay with you for hours, from quotidian domesticity to complex human relationships. Her lucid prose sparkles with the most evocative words science has to offer. It's almost as if Philip Larkin rewrote Black Mirror. Science and art, genetics, religion, ecology and the animal world all come together in this extraordinary collection. I found myself constantly surprised by Hershman's deft storytelling, perfectly captured details, and the way she drew my attention to the alien things of everyday life. Hershman navigates the complex relationship between the modern scientific world, and the soft, living creatures subject to it, with tenderness, elegance, and wit. Whether chemistry and poetry or genetics and sexuality, Hershman infuses science into her stories with a lightness of touch and great tenderness. I will be re-reading it - and not just once.