Monday, January 13, 2020
Thanks to Kevin Tipple for a correction.
When I started reading this story I had a strange sense of deja vu. Not that I had red the story before, but something similar.
But don't call the plagiarism police just yet. The story I was thinking of was also written by Chris Knopf. In fact, this is his third appearance on this page.
Our nameless character is a pretty cheerful guy but he has some problems. Take Harry, for instance. Harry isn't a problem, exactly, but a symptom of one. You see, he is our protagonist's only friend, and he happens to be from another dimension, and not visible to anyone else.
So, yeah, the guy has problems.
Right now he is living in his summer home, a tarp next to the river in Old Lyme, Connecticut. His neighbors are a big squatter he calls the Grouchy Witch, and a newly arrived woman is younger and attractive.
But now he has a new problem, because the Witch doesn't like the newcomer. And she has a big knife...
Sunday, September 3, 2017
Knopf is making his second appearance here.
I am very fond of what I call heightened language, which simply means that the words do something more than get us from the beginning of the story to the end. It doesn't have to been high-falutin' fancy words. Hemingway's monosyllabic language told us a lot about the world he was describing.
This story has a good plot but it is the language that puts it over the top. Here is our nameless protagonist, a homeless man, explaining his love of biology.
I'd loved it since I was a kid. I'd absolutely be hunched over a lab counter right now if I hadn't had that little hiccup with the voices in my head and the collusion of the Yale Board of Trustees, the United States Chamber of Commerce, and the Satanic Monks of Aquitaine to deprive me of my undergraduate position.
Yeah, I hate it when that happens.
But our hero is pretty cheerful. He likes his "house [which] is this nice little spot under the railroad tracks that mostly keeps out the rain and snow."
Of course, some conflict must occur even in this paradise, and it takes the form of a very strange man at Union Station whom no one notices except the homeless man and Harry. Did I mention Harry? No one can see him except our narrator, because he's from another dimension. But Harry isn't the problem. It's the elegantly dressed man with a canvas bag full of-- well, nothing nice.
Don't worry, though. Our guy and Harry are on the case. And a terrific case it is.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
This is not an anthology of short stories. It contains interviews, book excerpts, interviews, and a few stories thrown in. Now on to Mr. Knopf's contribution...
Two paisans, sitting in their favorite Italian restaurant in Brooklyn, are waxing nostalgic. Bogart laments that today's hit men lack the style of the great mechanics of yesteryear. His friend Two Step agrees that contract killers just ain't what they used to be. Relevant war stories are exchanged. Then other stuff happens.
I saw where this was going, but the perfect last paragraph made it worth the trip. Very amusing tale.