She is talking to him now, from a distance of about five feet away. He is listening to what she says, but occasionally, because of the wind, or the waves, he cannot hear what it is. Sometimes when this happens he asks her to repeat what she just said. Sometimes he does not. Sometimes he just nods slightly, smiles.
Is realizing something the same thing as acting on that realization? "9/16/10" is a darkly funny and semi-autobiographical story about a day, a month, and those certain times in our lives, when we must decide whether to change or whether to remain riding in "the middle seat of a three-seat moving truck."
"Spit out in tense, hypnotic prose, James Yeh's Taiwanese-American kaddish can be read in the time it takes you to brush your teeth, but I'm going to bet you don't forget its sadness or its post-Brooklyn dread for a long, long time." -Ed Park, author of Personal Days/founding editor of The Believer
"Yeh’s quiet meditation on death will sneak in and throw up a window in your soul with its intensity." -Deb Olin Unferth, author of Vacation and Minor Robberies
"[James Yeh is] probably one of the four or five best writers in the United States who hasn’t yet published a book."
--Kyle Minor, HTMLGIANT
