Julie AnnWeinstein
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Reviews
Flashes from the Other World The Short Review, Reviewed by Daniela Norris
An other-worldly presence seems to run like a scarlet thread through this collection of short fiction which is a delight to read – probably because the author delighted in writing it. Spirits of the dead that connect to the spirits of the living in surreal yet tangible ways attract the reader, as a veil of mist lifts and allows us a glimpse, real or imaginary, into The Other World. This Other World is not a pure creation of the author, but feels eerily familiar.
"There is a blue bead that always appears on the base of the town clock at certain times throughout the year. The locals don’t know who leaves the bead, just what it heralds; a life lost to violence. Would-be mothers kick at the beads, sending them to the gutter, down the sewage lines, hoping if no one sees it a child will be spared. Once I was such a mother. I wore my headscarf when others in my neighborhood didn’t. Religion for most here in Istanbul is a private matter, but I didn’t like my hair. The scarves in brilliant shades of green and purple looked so very pretty. (from Blue Beads) Sometimes it is dreams that connect us to a world we recognize, if only for those moments when the dream takes over and feels as if it is the one place we truly live in. " (From Blue Beads)
Sometimes it is dreams that connect us to a world we recognize, if only for those moments when the dream takes over and feels as if it is the one place we truly live in.
"This week I dreamed of flag poles, empty, dewy, singular poles. Grandma says it’s a sex dream. But I’m still a virgin and I think there’s more to it; there’s always more in these parts. The dream last night even showed a pole with a white flag. Ah surrendering images. It waved, it billowed, a bit inviting, almost a smile in the sky. And the face in it, lest I forget that… never! A boy’s face shown in the flag, if one can call it that."
(from Ziba)
But dreams and reality are not mutually exclusive things, as we can see in some of Weinstein’s haunting tales.
In the interlocking limbs of two eucalyptus trees I see your soul. Can you know it’s me gazing at you from the window? Do you know I dream how it feels to be joined in wood, not flesh? I see elephant tusks and the flesh of paper in your limbs. My boyfriend calls and says 'I must stop my staring’. It’s dreaming, I say. Our limbs don’t join as mirrors like yours. Can we wait 'til we grow this close? How long did it take your right limb to match your left? Oh… you say it was a lifetime, that’s too long.
(from Eucalyptus Moonlight)
But a lifetime is not too long if you are a spirit coming back, like in The Vacant Tub.
The ghost of past baths sat soaking up rays on the front lawn. Suds of yesteryear dripped off the porcelain surface of the tub. A bird chirped. Its bidding, its call, a young boy heard. He sat in the tub and raced a sailboat. A swell tipped the boy over, then moments later the boat stood upright and the boy pushed it along. Fine lines appeared on the base of the tub. A man emerged from the house and turned the bath over on its side. But the boy and the sailboat didn’t fall. They didn’t fall. They continued sailing the boat. The man ran his hands over the bottom of the tub. 'those scratches… they weren’t there yesterday. I know they weren’t there. I cleaned the tub myself’. A little boy laughed as the man dumped bleach into the tub and scrubbed with a yellow sponge.
Some of these tales make sense in a magical sort of way. Others make the reader reflect and open their eyes – all three of them – to the sounds and smells around them. To the Other World. Read with an open mind, and you shall be rewarded.
"Playing With The Plumbline," ~ Five Star Amazon Review:
| By | Grady Harp Los Angeles, CA United States) – See all my reviews (TOP 10 REVIEWER) VINE VOICE) (REAL NAME) |
"A Plumbline is defined as a line directed exactly toward the Earth's center of gravity. As a plumbline swings it circles around momentary paths that are inevitably pulled back to the gravity point, the center - it is a scientific fact. Reading Julie Ann Weinstein's collection of brief 'flash' stories is like moving out, away from the center where most stories dwell, uncontrolled by the laws of gravity, picking up momentary fragments of reality and then spinning out of control to create a place where Weinstein can create a brilliant moment of her own brand of reality that floats along seducing the reader on every page to this collection of FLASHES FROM THE OTHER WORLD. It is wonderfully off-centered.
Many authors will admit that writing short stories is more difficult than writing novels: ideas must be molded and embellished with a beginning and an end in a fairly short period of space. Take that one step further with the definition of flash fiction, ' flash fiction (AKA sudden fiction, microfiction, micro-story, short short, postcard fiction, prosetry and short short story) - is complete stories of 1000 or fewer words', and there are few practitioners who can accomplish these guidelines. Weinstein just happens to be one of those writers gifted with the ability to present terse explosions of stories that haunt the readers mind as much as any extended novel. She takes a word or a noticed piece of detritus and boom! out flows a complete story that is unafraid to employ the realm of magic/imagination/surrealism/magic realism to embellish her tale. This particular collection of flash fiction (not confined to stories of 1000 words always) is divided into three parts: Paranormal, Relationships, and Surreal. And these sectional titles offer a bit of help in approaching the many stories that follow. In the first section she offers such quickies as 'Camp Ghosts' a story only a half page long but one that reenacts the adventures of little girls off at summer camp dealing with a mysterious swimming incident. In the Relationship section she makes an entire revelation of two people over the disparity of shoe types in 'Itchy Feet', while in 'Sangria Mischief' we get to know a couple who base their wedding on stolen items form other brides - resourcefulness!
For this reader the most successful section is titled Surreal - and it is here that delicious little moments of inspiration develop into 'Flowers in the Alleyway' (a sniper's gun seems to shoot out roses and daisies to a hidden girl's memory instead of the reported deaths0. Or in 'Of Bees and Trucks' where an observer watches as bees fill a plastic truck with honey: 'Bees, they know it all. They see life between the sweetness of honey and the sour sting of death. Yes, the sting hurts them more than you. The pain today in your shorts is their death. Did you thank the bee for giving up its life so you could dance on the street? I didn't think so...etc' Every page of this polished book is rich with imagination that takes us on a journey to dreams and beyond - to the impossible ... or at least implausible. This is a book that, despite its idea of very quick stories, will call you back for re-reading many times. It is like Rod Serling meets Emily Dickinson!"
Girls With Insurance, Reviewed by Zach Fischel
"In 1,000 words or less, Julie Ann Weinstein goes through dozens of stories involving the paranormal, the surreal and, of course, relationships. Each story in Flashes from the Other World uses strangeness as a tool to explain how complex and truly interesting life should be. It's a quick and easy read that brings vivid focus to the gray areas of life. The prose demands attention, the pacing is quick, and the topics range from silly to disturbing. It's a good pick for those who believe in exploring life from the inexplicable or supernatural angles, and Weinstein proves to be very good at what she does. In short, this work's here to remind that, from vegetables to cloudy dreams, "there are more things in Heaven and earth...."
“Julie Ann Weinstein’s Flashes from the Other World in an eclectic assortment of flash fiction stories all based around the themes of the absurd, the paranormal, and the relationships that life weaves in its’ grand tapestry of coincidence. Weinstein looks at the little bumps in the road that we all face, steering us in a direction we may have otherwise never noticed. These stories take ordinary days and make them exceptional memories.
Most of the stories take paranormal views and expand on the moments that raise the hair on the back of your neck. Not necessarily terrifying, but the odd circumstances that carry a more spiritual purpose that everyone knows isn’t just chance. There are tales that will make you shake your head and laugh at the bizarre, and others that will have you thinking it were a time you lived yourself. There are also wild tales of sheer imagination, arguing peas and carrots, and provocative whipped creaming throwing out some information for anyone wise enough to listen. The language in the stories is crisp and precise, staying true to flash fiction form. Weinstein uses a voice that captures all of her characters individually, which makes each story unique in its telling.
Flashes from the Other World is a great collection to take with you as you go about your day. It highlights many things often overlooked and that is what makes this book a great read. You can imagine these things happening and will gain a little bit of the curiosity towards the world around you that Weinstein incorporates perfectly into her tales.”
RamblesNet, Review
"In 1,000 words or less, Julie Ann Weinstein goes through dozens of stories involving the paranormal, the surreal and, of course, relationships. Each story in Flashes from the Other World uses strangeness as a tool to explain how complex and truly interesting life should be. It's a quick and easy read that brings vivid focus to the gray areas of life. The prose demands attention, the pacing is quick, and the topics range from silly to disturbing. It's a good pick for those who believe in exploring life from the inexplicable or supernatural angles, and Weinstein proves to be very good at what she does. In short, this work's here to remind that, from vegetables to cloudy dreams, "there are more things in Heaven and earth...."
MidWest Book Review Reviewed by Shirley Priscella Johnson
"I have to say that I have never read "flash" fiction before. I wasn't sure exactly what I would find. Inside the pages of this book were many short stories, but not the kind I was use to reading. It took me a little bit to sink my teeth into them, but when I did I just let myself go and enjoyed.
The stories are wild and wacky, scary and secretive, magical and free. Many make no sense to the natural realm, yet pull at the imagination within you and beg you to fly away with them. Others tenderly pulled on my heartstrings, and some made me giggle. Yet others held a hint of true sadness. It was like a smorgasbord of many delicious treats that beckons you to partake."
"Goodwriters can make the usual unusual, which is what is done here." ~ Five Star Amazon Review:
No less a writer than Arthur Clarke once commented on the difficulty of writing good short stories, for each word in them has to be just right. Even a few missing or incorrect words can turn what could have been good into a weak or even terrible story. This book is a collection of short stories that had an origin of the author viewing or remembering a simple event. A list of the trigger mechanisms for all the stories is given at the end of the book.
The fundamental plots range of the mundane to the bizarre, some of them, such as a few about dolls, could be the plot for a short horror story. As I read them, I thought about the old television show "The Twilight Zone", where simple things were often expanded or twisted into an unusual situation.
My favorite in the collection is "Thunder Buns", which begins with a large woman riding a bike shouting, "I am thunder buns." Shortly after this, a naked man walks out to pick up his wet suit and instead of looking away the female narrator chooses to disrobe as well. The situation becomes even odder when they meet in the street and carry on a simple conversation about their experiences with nudity. They shake hands and she notices how his dangle-ling-ling moves when he shrugs his shoulders in response to a question. She comments on how her breasts jiggle as they formally shake hands in introduction. The moment is broken when someone whistles and yells, "Hey, check her out!" This story oozes with metaphors for life, the many ways we CYA and the magic of unusual spontaneity. "
The Steel Book Shelf
"So, there's evidently a genre of fiction with which I was previously unacquainted, flash fiction. Wikipedia says, "Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as three-hundred, while others consider stories as long as one-thousand words to be flash fiction." Now, this seems to me very much like the kind of thing I used to do when I'd immediately jot down the contents of a dream, or have a little scene go through my head, years ago, and have to write a quick blurb just to get it out of my brain, but evidently there's an entire body of this type of literature out there. Who knew?
Ms. Weinstein's book is a collection of her flash fiction, and was kind enough to send me a copy of it for review. I'd requested it not really paying attention to the genre... I did, however, find some of the ideas in the book entertaining, such as one story about a woman without children who adopts a doll, and takes it on all sorts of outings, snapping photos which she then sends off to her family. They all think she's crazy.
I could see, though, that perhaps those of us who have children or pets that we bombard our acquaintances and family with photos of, Xmas brag letters about, and so forth might evoke this sort of response or retaliation from the less fortunate. Made me think, anyhow.
One story that struck me as quite topical was the account of a woman who was labeled a criminal for excessive consumption of carbohydrates. The Food Police are watching you. The final lines from that one just cracked me up. "I break open the French bread and bite into it, ignoring the gun shots. One bullet hits the ceiling light. It breaks. Glass shatters. I continue chewing the bread and break open a bag of Cheetos. It rips in half. I throw it high in the air, the same with the next bag, and the next. It's raining Cheetos when they take me away."
Another bit that I rather liked was, "Mom called it gross and Dad didn't say anything, anything at all. Not even when the pile of gum wads in the corner of my room attracted life forms and Mom insisted I throw it out." If you've ever cleaned a teenager's room, you can relate to this."
MidWest Book Review Reviewed by Shirley Priscella Johnson
"I have to say that I have never read "flash" fiction before. I wasn't sure exactly what I would find. Inside the pages of this book were many short stories, but not the kind I was use to reading. It took me a little bit to sink my teeth into them, but when I did I just let myself go and enjoyed.
The stories are wild and wacky, scary and secretive, magical and free. Many make no sense to the natural realm, yet pull at the imagination within you and beg you to fly away with them. Others tenderly pulled on my heartstrings, and some made me giggle. Yet others held a hint of true sadness. It was like a smorgasbord of many delicious treats that beckons you to partake."
"Goodwriters can make the usual unusual, which is what is done here." ~ Five Star Amazon Review:
No less a writer than Arthur Clarke once commented on the difficulty of writing good short stories, for each word in them has to be just right. Even a few missing or incorrect words can turn what could have been good into a weak or even terrible story. This book is a collection of short stories that had an origin of the author viewing or remembering a simple event. A list of the trigger mechanisms for all the stories is given at the end of the book.
The fundamental plots range of the mundane to the bizarre, some of them, such as a few about dolls, could be the plot for a short horror story. As I read them, I thought about the old television show "The Twilight Zone", where simple things were often expanded or twisted into an unusual situation.
My favorite in the collection is "Thunder Buns", which begins with a large woman riding a bike shouting, "I am thunder buns." Shortly after this, a naked man walks out to pick up his wet suit and instead of looking away the female narrator chooses to disrobe as well. The situation becomes even odder when they meet in the street and carry on a simple conversation about their experiences with nudity. They shake hands and she notices how his dangle-ling-ling moves when he shrugs his shoulders in response to a question. She comments on how her breasts jiggle as they formally shake hands in introduction. The moment is broken when someone whistles and yells, "Hey, check her out!" This story oozes with metaphors for life, the many ways we CYA and the magic of unusual spontaneity. "
The fundamental plots range of the mundane to the bizarre, some of them, such as a few about dolls, could be the plot for a short horror story. As I read them, I thought about the old television show "The Twilight Zone", where simple things were often expanded or twisted into an unusual situation.
My favorite in the collection is "Thunder Buns", which begins with a large woman riding a bike shouting, "I am thunder buns." Shortly after this, a naked man walks out to pick up his wet suit and instead of looking away the female narrator chooses to disrobe as well. The situation becomes even odder when they meet in the street and carry on a simple conversation about their experiences with nudity. They shake hands and she notices how his dangle-ling-ling moves when he shrugs his shoulders in response to a question. She comments on how her breasts jiggle as they formally shake hands in introduction. The moment is broken when someone whistles and yells, "Hey, check her out!" This story oozes with metaphors for life, the many ways we CYA and the magic of unusual spontaneity. "
The Steel Book Shelf
"So, there's evidently a genre of fiction with which I was previously unacquainted, flash fiction. Wikipedia says, "Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as three-hundred, while others consider stories as long as one-thousand words to be flash fiction." Now, this seems to me very much like the kind of thing I used to do when I'd immediately jot down the contents of a dream, or have a little scene go through my head, years ago, and have to write a quick blurb just to get it out of my brain, but evidently there's an entire body of this type of literature out there. Who knew?
Ms. Weinstein's book is a collection of her flash fiction, and was kind enough to send me a copy of it for review. I'd requested it not really paying attention to the genre... I did, however, find some of the ideas in the book entertaining, such as one story about a woman without children who adopts a doll, and takes it on all sorts of outings, snapping photos which she then sends off to her family. They all think she's crazy.
I could see, though, that perhaps those of us who have children or pets that we bombard our acquaintances and family with photos of, Xmas brag letters about, and so forth might evoke this sort of response or retaliation from the less fortunate. Made me think, anyhow.
One story that struck me as quite topical was the account of a woman who was labeled a criminal for excessive consumption of carbohydrates. The Food Police are watching you. The final lines from that one just cracked me up. "I break open the French bread and bite into it, ignoring the gun shots. One bullet hits the ceiling light. It breaks. Glass shatters. I continue chewing the bread and break open a bag of Cheetos. It rips in half. I throw it high in the air, the same with the next bag, and the next. It's raining Cheetos when they take me away."
Another bit that I rather liked was, "Mom called it gross and Dad didn't say anything, anything at all. Not even when the pile of gum wads in the corner of my room attracted life forms and Mom insisted I throw it out." If you've ever cleaned a teenager's room, you can relate to this."
"So, there's evidently a genre of fiction with which I was previously unacquainted, flash fiction. Wikipedia says, "Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as three-hundred, while others consider stories as long as one-thousand words to be flash fiction." Now, this seems to me very much like the kind of thing I used to do when I'd immediately jot down the contents of a dream, or have a little scene go through my head, years ago, and have to write a quick blurb just to get it out of my brain, but evidently there's an entire body of this type of literature out there. Who knew?
Ms. Weinstein's book is a collection of her flash fiction, and was kind enough to send me a copy of it for review. I'd requested it not really paying attention to the genre... I did, however, find some of the ideas in the book entertaining, such as one story about a woman without children who adopts a doll, and takes it on all sorts of outings, snapping photos which she then sends off to her family. They all think she's crazy.
I could see, though, that perhaps those of us who have children or pets that we bombard our acquaintances and family with photos of, Xmas brag letters about, and so forth might evoke this sort of response or retaliation from the less fortunate. Made me think, anyhow.
One story that struck me as quite topical was the account of a woman who was labeled a criminal for excessive consumption of carbohydrates. The Food Police are watching you. The final lines from that one just cracked me up. "I break open the French bread and bite into it, ignoring the gun shots. One bullet hits the ceiling light. It breaks. Glass shatters. I continue chewing the bread and break open a bag of Cheetos. It rips in half. I throw it high in the air, the same with the next bag, and the next. It's raining Cheetos when they take me away."
Another bit that I rather liked was, "Mom called it gross and Dad didn't say anything, anything at all. Not even when the pile of gum wads in the corner of my room attracted life forms and Mom insisted I throw it out." If you've ever cleaned a teenager's room, you can relate to this."