cher_n_books's review against another edition
4.0
4 stars - It was great. I loved it.
Short story collections are perfect to keep on your phone for those quick minutes of reading at the end of a work break or while waiting at an appointment. I do not typically find as much joy with them as I do novels, but this one was a gem.
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Favorite Quote: If life really can be compared to a hand of cards, I’m fairly certain that those cards remain facedown until sixth or seventh grade and only then do you get to turn them over and see who you actually are.
First Sentence: When they gave us lumps of clay in art class, I made a pencil holder in the shape of a giraffe, and Louise made an ashtray.
Short story collections are perfect to keep on your phone for those quick minutes of reading at the end of a work break or while waiting at an appointment. I do not typically find as much joy with them as I do novels, but this one was a gem.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: If life really can be compared to a hand of cards, I’m fairly certain that those cards remain facedown until sixth or seventh grade and only then do you get to turn them over and see who you actually are.
First Sentence: When they gave us lumps of clay in art class, I made a pencil holder in the shape of a giraffe, and Louise made an ashtray.
gianettles's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
spiderfelt's review against another edition
5.0
A librarian suggested I read this out of the blue, reinforcing my rule 'always listen to people who read broadly'. The stories captivated me, defied my expectations and left me ultimately both piqued and charmed. It's a perfect little collection.
taralpittman's review against another edition
5.0
Only recently have I become a fan of short stories; I don't think I started reading them until after college, when a collection was recommended to me by a friend (by author Alice Munro) and I fell in love with the format. For an avid reader, I think I have a relatively short attention span; this certainly poses a problem when a novel doesn't "grab" me in the beginning, and I often choose novels based on my initial reaction to the description. Short stories might seem to be the optimal solution but, again, it often depends on the subject matter.
I was initially attracted to Why They Run the Way They Do for the title since, as you probably know, I love running; secondarily, I was attracted to the fact that it is a collection of short stories and that Jenny Offill, author of Dept. of Speculation, wrote a glowing recommendation. This turned out to be a great decision, in spite of the fact that it has nothing to do with running; this is my first five-star read of 2016.
As I type this, I feel inadequately skilled to "review" this collection; to say that I was moved by these stories would be a monumental understatement. A few days after finishing, I was still thinking about a couple of the stories and I'd really like to go back and reread the entire collection; instead, I've limited myself to about three of the stories and I would love to be in a book club where I could discuss this with many other readers. At 208 pages, you have no excuse NOT to read this one; please, go read it, and then return and tell me what you think.
Read the remainder at runningnreading.com: http://wp.me/p4EAyf-1KX
I was initially attracted to Why They Run the Way They Do for the title since, as you probably know, I love running; secondarily, I was attracted to the fact that it is a collection of short stories and that Jenny Offill, author of Dept. of Speculation, wrote a glowing recommendation. This turned out to be a great decision, in spite of the fact that it has nothing to do with running; this is my first five-star read of 2016.
As I type this, I feel inadequately skilled to "review" this collection; to say that I was moved by these stories would be a monumental understatement. A few days after finishing, I was still thinking about a couple of the stories and I'd really like to go back and reread the entire collection; instead, I've limited myself to about three of the stories and I would love to be in a book club where I could discuss this with many other readers. At 208 pages, you have no excuse NOT to read this one; please, go read it, and then return and tell me what you think.
Read the remainder at runningnreading.com: http://wp.me/p4EAyf-1KX
kindleandilluminate's review against another edition
4.0
Every story in this collection fits snugly into place like a puzzle piece. Not one story was weaker than the others, and each had me gasping a little for air at the end. Susan Perabo crafts small, sharp, perfect little portraits out of broken marriages, adolescence, motherhood, the minute details of a day and of a lifetime, and a surprising number of dogs - not to mention the one and only time "it was all a dream" has ever been an effective storytelling technique. Incisive, insightful, raw and compassionate.
I received this book through Goodreads Giveaways.
I received this book through Goodreads Giveaways.
bjr2022's review against another edition
4.0
Susan Perabo is a sly, slippery, and wise writer. Even the though the first story in this collection, "The Payoff," had an ending that not only took me by surprise, but gave me one of those rare transcendent glimpses of a whole-life experience, it took me one more story to realize I was in the hands of somebody who would never take the easy way out. By that I mean, even if the material she was dealing with—in the case of the first two stories, young adults and domestic turmoil—might easily become genre stuff (young adult cute angst, navel-gazing women's fiction), no way would Perabo reduce it to that. She has sly eyes that see every corkscrew turn of the psyche and her work can suddenly slip, careening into unexpected places.
By the third story, I realized there would be nothing vaguely generic in this book, and I surrendered all expectations and simply enjoyed being surprised, moved, entertained, and gobsmacked—over and over again. In fact I was surprised that I was so surprised. I was surprised that I found myself either completely neutral or feeling something akin to camaraderie with smokers! Me? A person who has never smoked and watched my mother die a slow, agonizing death from emphysema? Many of the characters in Perabo's stories are smokers, and the writing is so surprisingly good that it can change your embedded reactions. Surprise!
By the third story, I realized there would be nothing vaguely generic in this book, and I surrendered all expectations and simply enjoyed being surprised, moved, entertained, and gobsmacked—over and over again. In fact I was surprised that I was so surprised. I was surprised that I found myself either completely neutral or feeling something akin to camaraderie with smokers! Me? A person who has never smoked and watched my mother die a slow, agonizing death from emphysema? Many of the characters in Perabo's stories are smokers, and the writing is so surprisingly good that it can change your embedded reactions. Surprise!
bibirod's review against another edition
4.0
I'm not usually a fan of short stories, but these were actually pretty good. Hasn't changed how I feel about them...but I don't regret reading.
thevickijway's review against another edition
4.0
Easy quick read. Good if you're in for an overwhelming sense of melancholy.
geckoedit's review against another edition
4.0
Why They Run The Way They Do is a collection of a dozen or so dark, witty and poignant stories about ordinary people facing ordinary (and sometimes extraordinary) challenges. Each story stands well on its own, and the subjects range from teenaged girls to spinsters, from witnesses to tragedy to participants in illicit affairs, and families that break apart and come together.
The twelve stories cover pre-teens who dabble in blackmail; a haunting stuffed animal; spinster sisters who while their days away with scrabble; a daring escape from a psych ward; several sad, neglected and heartbreaking dogs; a plane crash; terribly damaged relationships and a whole lot of cigarettes. Even a story that’s only three pages long (“Switzerland”) has enough of a punch to it to move you. When it comes to short stories, being able to create a character real enough for the reader’s empathy to kick in is the sign of true artistry, and Perabo makes it look easy.
I had a few favourites in this anthology: I loved “Michael the Armadillo”, where their toddler’s stuffed animal brings back memories of a couple’s dark past. It was full of suspense and yet at the same time just absurd enough to be quite funny. I also liked “This Is Not That Story”, which toyed with plot and building suspense, and felt pretty meta-textual and self-aware. It was like reading a bunch of clippings and piecing a story together, and when you don’t have all the pieces and have to fill in the blanks yourself, that opens it up to a lot of interpretation. It is a story that begs to be re-read, picked apart and played with.
The stories feel a lot like Raymond Carver; they match his “brevity and intensity”, focus on slices of everyday life, and deal with people who feel isolated, or marginalised. However, there is also a streak of humour in the stories that prevents them from sucking you down into a Carver-esque pit of despair at the human condition; furthermore, there’s more of a sense of plot in these stories, with clear climaxes and twists, and some incredible character development. For instance, “Indulgence” depicts the last moments shared between a daughter and her dying mother, and despite the presence of death in every word, it is warm with humour and life. It made me cry and smile at the same time.
Susan Perabo has a voice that is so sincere that it felt like eavesdropping on someone’s inner monologue; I forgot I was reading stories and instead felt like I knew these people. I felt like a voyeur, but I couldn’t look away. Her characters are evoked with a few words, a few actions; she wastes nothing on description but each word drips with nuance and it has an authenticity that is perfectly balanced – it never felt forced. Sometimes you can get a vivid sense of the author’s hand guiding the text, but in Perabo’s case the author disappears and it feels like the words were there to begin with, uncovered like Michelangelo’s sculptures hidden in their marble husks. She chips away until the minimum elements remain to create the barest truth of the story.
This is an excellent collection of stories. Each story is stunningly written. Perhaps my only complaint was that the ordering of them in the anthology didn’t seem to make much sense, except in the connection of certain images between them, such as the cigarettes and the dogs. But the stories were excellent and I may return to them, and re-read them again and again, as each time I find something I missed the first time that makes me love them a little bit more.
I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for a fair and honest review. You can read more of my reviews on Literogo.
She feared that seeing the boy would remind her husband of all the other things he had seen and worked so hard to forget, all the other things they’d been running from for so many years. There’s a story there. But that is not this story.
The twelve stories cover pre-teens who dabble in blackmail; a haunting stuffed animal; spinster sisters who while their days away with scrabble; a daring escape from a psych ward; several sad, neglected and heartbreaking dogs; a plane crash; terribly damaged relationships and a whole lot of cigarettes. Even a story that’s only three pages long (“Switzerland”) has enough of a punch to it to move you. When it comes to short stories, being able to create a character real enough for the reader’s empathy to kick in is the sign of true artistry, and Perabo makes it look easy.
Then, at once, we both exploded into riotous laughter and burst into motion away from the scene of the crime, ran full blast down the hall and up the stairs, laughing and gasping for air. by the time we slid into the backseat of my mother’s paneled station wagon we had our poker faces set, but the image of what we’d witnessed was so vivid in my mind I couldn’t believe my mother couldn’t see it herself, reflected with perfect detail in the pools of my eyes.
I had a few favourites in this anthology: I loved “Michael the Armadillo”, where their toddler’s stuffed animal brings back memories of a couple’s dark past. It was full of suspense and yet at the same time just absurd enough to be quite funny. I also liked “This Is Not That Story”, which toyed with plot and building suspense, and felt pretty meta-textual and self-aware. It was like reading a bunch of clippings and piecing a story together, and when you don’t have all the pieces and have to fill in the blanks yourself, that opens it up to a lot of interpretation. It is a story that begs to be re-read, picked apart and played with.
You think it’s just going to be one strap, but it’s three, one like a belt around you, and then one on each side of the belt strapping you to the bedframe, so not only can you not get out of bed, but you can’t look anywhere but straight up. It was just one night, but int the morning only the top layer of me got up, peeled in a thin strip from the softball player, who stayed in the bed forever.
The stories feel a lot like Raymond Carver; they match his “brevity and intensity”, focus on slices of everyday life, and deal with people who feel isolated, or marginalised. However, there is also a streak of humour in the stories that prevents them from sucking you down into a Carver-esque pit of despair at the human condition; furthermore, there’s more of a sense of plot in these stories, with clear climaxes and twists, and some incredible character development. For instance, “Indulgence” depicts the last moments shared between a daughter and her dying mother, and despite the presence of death in every word, it is warm with humour and life. It made me cry and smile at the same time.
“The truth escapes me,” people say, though surely we are willing accomplices to its flight. We loosen its chains, leave its cell door slightly ajar, allow ourselves to become distracted as it lumbers off into the waning light.
Susan Perabo has a voice that is so sincere that it felt like eavesdropping on someone’s inner monologue; I forgot I was reading stories and instead felt like I knew these people. I felt like a voyeur, but I couldn’t look away. Her characters are evoked with a few words, a few actions; she wastes nothing on description but each word drips with nuance and it has an authenticity that is perfectly balanced – it never felt forced. Sometimes you can get a vivid sense of the author’s hand guiding the text, but in Perabo’s case the author disappears and it feels like the words were there to begin with, uncovered like Michelangelo’s sculptures hidden in their marble husks. She chips away until the minimum elements remain to create the barest truth of the story.
At this stage in our careers (if you could call them that) there was no such thing as friendly encouragement; there was only nail-biting, hair-whitening, heartburn-inducing pressure. Each of us teetered minute by minute on the line between undiscovered genius and complete loser.
This is an excellent collection of stories. Each story is stunningly written. Perhaps my only complaint was that the ordering of them in the anthology didn’t seem to make much sense, except in the connection of certain images between them, such as the cigarettes and the dogs. But the stories were excellent and I may return to them, and re-read them again and again, as each time I find something I missed the first time that makes me love them a little bit more.
I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for a fair and honest review. You can read more of my reviews on Literogo.
peggyelscott's review against another edition
5.0
Wow! This book of short stories is fantastic. The thing about short stories is that each word, each sentence, each phrase must exactly picked and placed precisely or it simply doesn't work. Perabo does that in spades. Every story grips you from the first sentence; one ends with a twist, another the way you thought it would. Each one perfectly. She wrote in the acknowledgments that it took 15 years to write this book; gads, I hope it's not that long for the next one.