A huge thanks to Sean Lovelace for his wild and wonderful review of Sherrie Flick’s collection Thank Your Lucky Stars. Below is a brief excerpt from the review, but you can read the full piece here.
The finest writing in Thank Your Lucky Stars is actually when Flick works in a vein I’ll call a departure. (As your nimble critic, I know her craftsmanship well throughout the years.) The best writing in this book of very good writing is not narrative; it is centrifuged into the shorter flashes. Mostly less than one page, very brief (like a haiku or a thong, as I’ve mentioned). Their imaginative intensity—their pure serious play with language—overcomes any requirement in this reader for context. To cast for solely meaning here is the wrong impulse. I admire how these short texts make me think, shift, see, feel.
6: crickets jump like fireworks.
52: tapping, tapping, tapping. Chickens.
60: tomcats screech and gurgle.
155: twins settle like a pile of twigs.
168: moon, thunder, baby owl night.
156: beets pulsing.
122: rambling locust.
73: fluffy white baby cow cloud faces.