The first piece of fiction I read after finishing Reading Like a Writer was a short story by Tessa Hadley in a New Yorker from last summer 1.
I generally don’t like short stories. Most seem gimicky, or thin, or written according to some stylebook I’m immediately suspicious of. Short fiction often leaves me hungry to know more, feel more, understand more. I get to the end, note the sharp shock of emotion or understanding, appreciate how we got there at the end of they leave me many more unanswerd questions with a there’s not enough there